


The Thai Prince

by GeorgiPopovichWitchdoctor



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Caretaking, Drama, Fluff and Angst, Graphic Description, M/M, Medical Mumbo Jumbo, Past Abuse, Previous Abusive Relationship, Retirement, dun dun dun, haven't decided yet lol - Freeform, probably some smut, tw, will add tags per chapters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-20
Updated: 2017-05-09
Packaged: 2018-10-08 02:03:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 79,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10375401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GeorgiPopovichWitchdoctor/pseuds/GeorgiPopovichWitchdoctor
Summary: Phichit was unsure what all these noises were around him, one moment ago he was in the middle of a quad salchow, and the next, he was in pain he couldn't describe, and all he could see was light fading.  There were definitely voices, he could hear them, but it was like someone was covering his ears, and there were faces appearing around him, gathering on the ice.  He can hear a familiar Swiss accent, and a hand grasping at his for comfort, but it's the last thing he remembers.What has happened to Phichit Chulanont?





	1. Chapter 1

_“I can’t get sick, I’m about to win my fucking gold medal, I’m at the top of my roster_.”  The voice within his head is accompanied by retching into his hotel bathroom’s toilet, _“I’ve never been better than now, I’m so close.”_ The noises he makes must be noisy, because there’s a pounding against his door, though he’s barely paying attention to that.  His writhing on the cold tiles was the only thing to comfort the pain in his stomach, which has been pressed and squeezed between the sink and the porcelain bowl for the past two hours.

 

Phichit Chulanont, age 22, Thai’s champion of the ice rink who has brought them silvers and bronzes multiple times before at Grand Prix finals, Nationals, and Worlds, but this year was his time to shine, as he’d constructed two programs so filled with enthusiasm and jumps, there was no way he could go less than gold.  Years of his parents and his sister and cousins cheering him on with all they could, he just had to be able to show them how much he cared for them.  It wasn’t enough to put most of his earnings into college funds for the little ones back home, Phichit had to win gold and bring the title to his home.

 

He wasn’t going to do that vomiting, that’s for sure.  Standing from his bathroom and flushing, he gets a cup of water and swishes it through his mouth, finally hearing the extent of the voice on the other side of the door from his room.  Phichit shuffles over to his bed to get his team jacket, then peeks through the peephole where he’s met with a stormed face of his longtime coach, Celestino.  “Ah, dammit…”  He unlocks and opens up the door, “Sorry, Ciao-Ciao. I couldn’t hear you.”

 

The long-haired coach looks at him in disbelief, as he’d heard those noises all the way out in the hall, and was ready to call for some assistance.  “I thought you DIED! What happened? You look exhausted!” He frowns worriedly, pressing his hand against his student’s forehead.  “You’ve got a fever, what happened?”

 

“Calm down! Calm down!” Phichit waves his hands up, “I just got a bout of stomach troubles, I’m okay.”  Though he claims so, the Thai skater is unsure what this was, as he’d avoided drinking last night to enjoy some chicken wraps with a few friends; though he wished Yuuri Katsuki was around to comfort him.  The Japanese skater was in the Russian team’s roster across the world, and he would face him in the Nationals.  “I’m alright now, let’s get out to practice, okay? I’ve got a competition to win!”

 

“Now hold on, Phichit…” He frowns, stopping him from picking up his bag, “You’re sick, you’re burning up.  I’m not a good coach to advise you carry on like this, I’m going to have to stop you.”

 

The young man looks up to him, but stubbornly, he grabs hold of his bag.  “Coach, I told you, I’m alright.  I’m going to get some plain rice and crackers, then I’ll be in top form.  You can force me to rest after all this is done, and I’ll skip doing jumps in the warm up skate today. Okay?” There’s still hesitation in the air as his coach glares down to him worriedly, like a son he’d never had.  “I only have to do one performance, and then I’ll sleep for 200 hours if you need me to.  But I need to do this today.”

 

There’s a frustrated grunt as Celestino rubs his temples, grabbing the bag out of his hands, “If you say you’re alright, then you’d better be.  I’ll take this, and you take it easy on your stretches.”

 

“Deal!” There’s the cheerful smile he loves to see on his star pupil, and Phichit grabs his phone off the stand, ready for the free skate today that will land him titles galore.

 

 

There’s multiple skaters here in this December ridden France, all who are hoping to reach on to the next competition as much as Phichit, and they’re intimidated by the power of the young man who’d risen the popularity charts of the media.  Not that he wasn’t before, after all, he’s documented most of his career on his social media, and he’s combined his superpowers of his phone, camera, and selfie stick in with the two skating routines that are built to crush competitor hopes.  Somehow today, they seem more intimidating to him, and he can feel the familiar pain in his gut churn with that feeling; they must be able to see his dark circles under his eyes, the way his hair was greasy from not showering this morning.

 

Yet, with a chin held high, he enters the room as if he’s the high prince, and they’re the dukes and maids of the kingdom, all wishing they were in his seat of power.  After today, he’ll be the king of all kings.  He’ll be the third to go on out of the eight that were there stretching to compete for men’s singles and then he’ll have the rest of the evening to relax and take care of himself.  He’s got his ear buds in, listening to his music for his program today, a song that has sunk into his skin and made his determination boil with determination.

 

 

 

Christophe was stretching out his legs at the sidelines of the ice, glaring around him at the youngsters that are scattered around him, all overdramatically arguing over who will win today.  He misses competing against Victor, where the dramatics were left on the ice, and possibly in their drinking, but growing older in the sport has led to new skaters coming in, who are much better at the game than the ancient athletes who have been in this specific singles for a decade now.  How cringeworthy, he wonders when the actual adults will arrive.  “CHRISTOPHE.” Says a deep voice, one that makes the Swiss man shudder.  “Where have you been? Hanging out with the ankle biters?”

 

Jean-Jacques Leroy, age 21, ultimate douchenozzle supreme, that is in Chris’s eyes.  Everyone else seems to be alright with him after his nervous breakdown on ice two years back, they treat him semi-chummy, a strange place to be.  But as far as his own preferences, he remained quite cold towards him.  “I’m sorry, JJ, but I’m about to go meet up with an old friend, don’t you have an interview to be at?”

 

“Ah, alright, I’ll catch up with you after the skates, eh? We’ll get drinks!”

 

“Right, right.”  Chris nods and looks around for someone to walk towards, unfortunately it wasn’t anyone in his direct eyesight now, so he’ll just start walking around in the back halls just off the skater’s side.  Being in the bracket to go first, he couldn’t go far. _“Well, there’s one familiar face, I wonder if this will start getting interesting when we head back to China for the next event…”_  

 

That’s when Chris sees Phichit entering, and he gets a sigh of relief, someone he recognizes that he actually wants to.  He remembers them getting along well as they dragged their drunken mutual friends off the dance floor back in Sochi after the Grand Prix Final series a few years prior.  They bonded over some drinks and sometimes texted before.  One point, they’d woken up together in a diner parking lot missing some pants, and stopped in for some waffles saying they were wearing a new hotpants trend. They talked sometimes on social media, due to their conflicting time zones, it was usually hours apart.  Perhaps this would be a good time to reconnect.  “Phichit!” He calls, giving a cutesy wink over to him, “My, my! There you are! After last night’s performance, I was sure you’d be tanked from all the shots the Paris lovers must be showering you with!”

 

His green eyes notice the skater’s features are a little duller than the shimmering diamond he was yesterday.  “Chris, are you ready to feel my wrath again?” Well, the talk seems to still be pretty shiny.

 

“I take it back, you most certainly look tanked.”  Despite the joking tone, he is a little concerned as to how he looks, he knew this wasn’t the sunshine beam he usually saw during competitions.

 

“Har…..har…..ooh god….”  Phichit looks like he’s about to blow chunks, his eyes widen and he looks around for the nearest trash can away from cameras.  The Swiss man knows that face too well, and looking around, it seems the cameras are all facing away.  His friend grabs him by the shoulders and dives into the nearest bathroom, bolting the door behind them and kicking a stall open for him, the weak Thai skater is grateful, but can’t show it as he throws himself into one. 

 

Grimacing a bit at the noises he was making, echoing around the tiled room, half lit and filled with the groan to the petite man.  “….Phichit, what the hell is wrong? You’re a mess.”

 

There goes the rice and crackers from earlier, he didn’t think those would ever come up.  “I’m alright….It’s a stomach bug, I’ll be okay….”  He’s trembling a bit from that one, but he stands up, feeling a little better now that he’s empty, but still sore in his midsection and his right side.  Perhaps he’d pulled something from all this retching.

 

“Are you sure?  Should I get a doctor?”  Chris wets a cloth and turns to wipe his face, beaded with some sweat.

 

“No, no, I’m going to one after I do my skate today.  But I don’t wanna go into this all drugged up.  Be bad for press if I kick all your asses while doped on cold medicine.”

 

Christophe had to smile at that, “Okay, alright,” Rolling his eyes, he shakes his head and looks in the mirror to make sure he looked as fine as ever. “Well, don’t throw up on the ice. You take care of yourself, I’m about to go on.  Okay?  Go easy on me, I’m an old man in this game.”

 

Phichit takes a deep breath and nods, “Try not to break a hip, geezer.” He unbolts the door and walks out, he wanted to get done with this and go the hell back to the hotel room.  But he was so close.

 

 

 

 

First was Christophe on the ice, his skate was surrounded by an aura of his beautiful sensual themes he’s come to adore.  Every sensuality had a genre, this year it was angst within sex, and he wore all black with white roses etched into his chest and down his muscular thighs.  The song was slow and lovely, but the French lyrics were popular, as everyone in the audience seemed to either blush or clutch their own clothing in their passionate cheering.  Phichit didn’t know the lyrics, he couldn’t speak French, which was quite difficult having spent the past two days here without being able to communicate with anyone in the area for places to eat or visit.  He is quite drawn to the way Chris moves on the ice, though, impressed with yet another genre of sex he didn’t know could be expressed through the shoed blades. 

 

Having wowed the audience yet again, Christophe stands to wave, his movements were fluid and still as sensual as his work, gaining some higher cheer, and even some flowers thrown out to the ice.  He approaches the entrance where Phichit is taking a careful seat, and the Swiss notices his hand gently tucked beneath his jacket at his right side.  “…So, how did I do?”

 

“Not bad, for a relic.” Phichit manages to hold his tone confident, much better than when he was screaming his vomit out in the restroom about twenty minutes before.  Perhaps this was just a bug, Chris was paranoid.  However, with no time to waste, he goes to the Kiss and Cry, off to figure out his score.

 

 

Second was a youngster named Minami Kenjirou, someone whom Phichit hadn’t met before, but would probably like.  He was jazzy, really liked to style up his programs with a lot of high kicks and what seemed to be dance moves styled to swing and old fashioned jigs.  He’d have enjoyed it more if he wasn’t feeling like his entire body was going to collapse, he was saving his energy to do his skate, and then he’d leave.  That’s the plan.  Celestino keeps asking every five minutes if it’s going to change, and there’s no shame in going out due to illness, but he knows his pupil will just want to go on the ice more.

 

Finally, it’s his turn, and he removes his jacket to sport his dazzling costume, a navy suit entirely decorated in gold details all down his sleeves, enforcing that deep V-Neck style of suit to broaden his shoulders, a gold belt like a royal outfit would have sits at his waist, and his blades even have streaks of gold in them for effect. 

 

His starting pose is holding his hand up to the lights, like it were the bright sun shining down upon Prince Phichit Chulanont, the world seemed at awe to watch him like this, his cheerful face darkened by whatever illness struck him.  As the stringed instrument filled the empty space where the crowd sat in wonder at him, gazing at how he made his first steps look so effortless, each skate glided as though he were flying on blades of clouds.

 

The first step sequence grapevines his legs, and turning that much is not doing very well for his stomach, but he’s going to be done in a few minutes, he can handle this.  _“Don’t throw up, don’t throw up, there’s nothing in there to throw up, you did that already, just stay in there, stomach.”_

 

Christophe finishes an interview, smiling and walking over to the edge to see this famed performance he was promised, only…to be instantly in worry.  Yes, Phichit had looked ill a few minutes ago, but the moment he started skating, moving, twisting his body, he could swear there were tears in his eyes and shaking in his hands.

 

Coach Celestino is about to put on his skates and pull him off the ice, he can see there’s pain in his face, there’s a hindrance in his steps, and there’s something wrong with his dear pupil.  The audience can see it, the judges can see it, and yet the boy kept  going, he was about to come up on the second half of his program.  “Coach Celestino,” Christophe leans over, “He’s not okay, we need to get him off that ice.”

 

“I know, I know, I’m going to go out there and get him.” He leans down to tie up his laces, “I should never have let him sway me, he shouldn’t have started skating.”

 

The next jump, a quad Salchow was about to come up, and Phichit was so excited he could be able to jump it in his practices and has never faltered from doing it in his last two times performing it, he had to be able to today.  As he raised his arms up to gain momentum, crossing them across his chest and leaping into the air, it was as though everything blacked out.

 

The crowd gasps as the jump is twirled, but the legs and arms of the young man lost their rigid control, and Phichit falls into the ice, rolling until he’s on his stomach, face pressed into the harsh cold of the ice.  Christophe is the first one to take action, he jumps onto the rink again, skating as fast as he can to the young skater friend of his, worry climbing into every nerve of his body.  “Phichit! Phichit!” He calls.

 

Phichit was unsure what all these noises were around him, one moment ago he was in the middle of a quad salchow, and the next, he was in pain he couldn't describe, and all he could see was light fading from his slowly blinking eyes.  There were definitely voices, he could hear them, but it was like someone was covering his ears, and there were faces appearing around him, gathering on the ice.  He can hear a familiar Swiss accent, and a hand grasping at his for comfort, but it's the last thing he remembers.

 

Medical began to climb onto the ice as well, bringing a backboard with them as well as some heavy first aid to meet with the young famed skater.  Announcers say they’re taking a break and will resume once the situation is resolved, assuring everyone to stay in their seats.

 

Coach Celestino lunges over to his skater, “PHICHIT, PHICHIT WAKE UP, PLEASE WAKE UP!” He screeches, “Why did you want to skate so bad? AUGH!”  One of the Medical First Responders (MFR) hold up their hand, stopping him from freaking out further.

 

“Nous devons l'amener à l'hôpital.” Celestino stares, not sure what was just said, he shakes his head.

 

“Uh…I speak English!  And Italian, but not French! Do you speak English?”  The MFR looks between him and Christophe.  “Oh God…”

 

Chris realizes this is his time to shine, there is a way he can help.  One of the official languages of Switzerland is French, and he’d grown up speaking it quite well, even when his tongues would change between English and Russian for his friends.  “Je peux traduire, de quoi avez-vous besoin?”  He asks the MFR, who looks relieved at someone’s translation.

 

Coach Celestino looks between them as they speak, at last someone can help in this situation, he had fallen helpless in the moment as he looked down at the student, who was in and out of consciousness.  The Swiss man explained his stomach was hurting earlier and he wanted to continue on the ice, how he’d thrown up, the fever, the pain, all that he knew about this situation.  He turns to the coach with a smile, “They said we’re taking him to the hospital now, and they need to know how to take care of him.  They need blood types, his family members, medical history…”

 

“How am I supposed to translate what I know?” He worries, “I have the file, but I can’t trust they’ll know any of this!”

 

“I can translate for you, I’ll come with you.”  Christophe nods, still gripping onto his friends hand, which seems to squeeze a response from him.  He looks down, Phichit writhes a bit in pain, trying to roll over onto his back, but his pained groan states that he should do as little effort as possible right now.  “Hey there, Phichit~ You might want to sit still for a moment….” Looking up at the medicals, he states, “Je viens pour traduire son histoire médicale.”

 

“Une ambulance est en route. Une autre personne peut venir sur l'ambulance avec nous. Il est préférable de le faire.”

 

Chris frowns, which doesn’t entirely excite the long haired man who is pacing around them uselessly, “Christophe, what did they say?”

 

“…Only one other person on the ambulance can fit when it’s arrived, they want me to go.  I need you to give me the file and you can drive behind us, I’ll take care of this, alright?”

 

“Are you sure?”

 

“Yes! I’ve already skated, I’ve got the highest score, I can have my coach collect my medal when I win!” He smiles, stepping back a moment as the young patient is rolled carefully onto the backboard, Phichit grunts at that, he’s shivering despite his high fever that beads his sweat again.  _“Oh dear, he doesn’t look good at all…”_

Phichit’s hand reaches out shakily for Chris’ again, he’s surprised at this, as he didn’t think the boy would notice.  Yet the look in his tearful eyes, he’s terrified, he’s distraught he couldn’t finish his performance, and more than that, he was in pain and battered from his fall and this stricken illness.  The Swiss takes no hesitation to entwine their fingers.  “Ch-Chris, I-I’m sorry….” He whines in between his gasps as he’s lifted up on the backboard, which pulls the other party along.

 

“Come now, I told you to take it easy on me, and here you are putting on this show~ I’m flattered~"

 


	2. Diagnosis

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> By the time they stop at the hospital emergency doors, he looks like hell had beaten him to a pulp, and he was shivering from the chills that ran up his back with the sweat of his fever buried under his skin. The bumps from being carried in the stretcher off the ambulance didn’t feel great, but he preferred those to letting go of his competitor’s hand, being swung into the busy room filled with people he couldn’t understand and nothing with him to be able to call his family or plead for a friend.

 

The ride in the ambulance was the longest drive Phichit had ever been in, the lights above weren’t flickering, but his vision being as dizzy as he was made it feel like they were.  Pothole after pothole, each one shook his insides like he were a piñata getting beaten with the biggest stick at the party.  He’d not let go of Christophe’s hand since they got in, it was the only thing keeping him sane right now; the wisps of the French language were mumbles right now as he kept going over everything that was happening.  He wanted to cry, to call his family, to apologize to everyone for being this close and having this happen.

 

The way they took care of him, his family, this was dedicated to them and everything they could have ever done for him.  There was confidence, like his sister, where he would display that in every jump he’d perfected over the past year.  There was grace like his father, who seemed to always have an answer to every difficult situation, and he showed it in the proud royal costume he’d put on specifically for him.  There was intelligence for his mother, who was determined to help her son graduate while he still pursued his dream, he showed it in the careful sequence he had placed in between the jumps to conclude winning points.

 

All of it was ruined, Phichit felt like a failure, and he couldn’t even call his family to apologize.  He’s absolutely certain they woke up hours earlier to be able to watch, they must be scared and disappointed in him, like the rest of Thailand must be.  He was so close to getting them gold, one more competition until the big one, and he would have crushed the other routines into dust in the back of someone’s mind.  All until he woke up this morning at 6 am, writhing with nausea bubbling in his throat, and the inability to understand where the nearest pharmacy must be to be able to settle it. 

 

Instead, he put all his faith into competing anyway, and for all he knows, he could have made it worse, he could die in a few minutes and not know what transpired, and yet the humiliation kills him inside already.  As his weeping flows down the sides of his temples, he clutches that sturdy hand in his, glancing over to Christophe who hasn’t left his side.  “I’m here, Phichit…. please, keep breathing deep breaths, don’t hold it in.”  He instructs, leaning down to kiss his knuckles supportively.

 

The Thai skater takes a deep breath in, only for the piercing pain to keep him from finishing exhaling without it turning into a sob; his costume has been cut by cloth scissors to be sure to inspect the area, which seems fine and unbruised, but positively inflamed.  He could feel it when his fingers gently brushed on it, and the sensitivity ran from his belly button all the way up to his right side of his ribcage.

 

By the time they stop at the hospital emergency doors, he looks like hell had beaten him to a pulp, and he was shivering from the chills that ran up his back with the sweat of his fever buried under his skin.  The bumps from being carried in the stretcher off the ambulance didn’t feel great, but he preferred those to letting go of his competitor’s hand, being swung into the busy room filled with people he couldn’t understand and nothing with him.

 

Christophe must release his hand so they may go and treat the poor young man, and he stands at the doors, unsure of what to do, should he go with him to translate? Would he even be allowed being just a friend?  Rushing over to one of the nurses, he holds up the medical file, “Le jeune Thaïlandais qui est entré, Phichit Chulanont, j'ai ses informations médicales.” The nurse affirms and starts talking with him about what’s going on.

 

The brown-haired woman reads a bit, then looks to “He speaks English, yes?”  She says in broken accent, Christophe sighs in relief and nods, “Good.  I’m the closest English speaker on this floor.”

 

“Oh good…are you going to be his doctor?”  He’s relieved she seems multilingual.  “What’s wrong? What do I tell his coach?”

 

“I’m a nurse. I’ll be on the team with Dr. D’Rouge though, we will take care of him.”  She explains, but she seems to be needing to step away, “Will you wait for the doctor to examine him?  The waiting room is over there.”

 

Chris laments and steps away, the responsibility of translation is gone, and he’s looking around trying to figure out what to do next.  He’s still in his one-piece costume, and viewing around for the waiting room.  Seems like the one door with actual calm people in it, all except the one arriving Coach Celestino, who’s in near tears as he blunders in with bags on top of bags.  “Coach Celestino!” He waves, hiking over to help him.

 

“CHRISTOPHE, WHERE IS HE?” he bursts, like he’s been holding that voice in for years due to panic, Chris grabs two of the bags and sets them down near the corner seats which are available.

 

“Take it easy, the doctors are all with him right now.  I gave them the medical file; they have a translator in there with him.” He eases the father-like figure down into a chair, he’s worrying the long hairs out of his own head.  “Did you have his phone? Or mine for that matter? I think you can take a break from having everyone call.”

 

Celestino sighs, handing the phones over, “Yes, your coach wants you to call him immediately to get the score.  The last male skater should be going on right now…” He rubs his temples.

 

With a nod, the Swiss man picks up both phones, but Phichit’s is ringing off the hook, a picture of himself and Yuuri wearing hamster hoodies it seems is popping up on the screen. “Oh, goodness, he’s probably worried sick.”  He clicks on the call, only to see the screen fill up with Victor’s face, a pacing Yuuri in the background.  “Hello, lovebirds, how are you?”  His sing-song tone was not taken well it seems.

 

Yuuri turns his head when he sees the phone answered after the seventh call, rushing over with a panicked voice, “CHRIS! WHERE’S PHICHIT? IS HE OKAY?  WHERE’S COACH CELESTINO?”  Victor is trying to calm his fiancé down it seems; the phone is shaking and almost dropped a few times.  The speaker itself could blow out at the volume of the young skater who was so concerned for his best friend.

 

“Goodness, how am I the calmest one out of all of us for this?”  Chris chuckles a bit, “Everyone take a deep breath with Uncle Giacometti, oui? In through the nose, out through the mouth!”

 

Victor makes a cutthroat motion and a face that winces before the shout even begins, Yuuri grabs the phone and peers angrily into the screen. “I’M SERIOUS, CHRISTOPHE, WHERE’S PHICHIT?”

 

“He’s with the doctors right now, we made it to the hospital, he’s with an entire medical team right now, and they’re going to take care of him.”  He speaks seriously, holding the phone back to show Celestino doing those breathing exercises with him.  “When I last left him, he seemed fine, someone’s going to let us know when it’s taken care of, oui?”

 

There’s a wail in the halls of the hospital, they sound like their Thai friend, making all of them sit on edge worriedly.  “……Chris, was that him?” Victor asks, frowning worriedly.

 

The seriousness in his face is increased, he’s recognizing the yelp from the earlier sounds he was making on the ice as he clutched at his clothing, but this is no time to panic.  “I don’t know, I really don’t, I’ll keep you guys updated, alright? Victor, call my phone next time, it’s got a better battery than Phichit’s and I think he’ll want some selfies when he’s better.”  He jokes with a smile, nodding to them as he hangs up before anyone can protest.  Taking a breath of relief, he stands up, “Coach Celestino, I’m going to make sure everything’s alright with Phichit, I need you to stay here, okay?”

 

While Chris stands up to meet at the door, there’s a face awaiting, a tall woman in a long white coat, “Vous êtes venu chez Phichit Chulanont?” 

 

“….Er…Oui!”  He nods, frowning as he talks to her, asking how Phichit is doing, what that noise in the hall was. 

 

Their talk back and forth makes the coach in the corner a bit panicky, upended up to walk over restlessly, “Chris?”  A hand is held up as the questions continue; it’s really a good thing this man is here to translate and keep everyone calm.  Seems that’s what he’s best at.

 

“Merci.” He nods to the doctor and turns to him, “That’s the doctor, they think they know what happened; his appendix might have burst.  They’re not sure just because pressing on his abdomen causes pain, and their testing didn’t come up with anything yet.  They’re going to operate and make sure everything’s alright.”

 

Celestino can’t tell if he’s relieved to know what the cause of this pain was, or worried because of the diagnosis, either way, he throws his arms around the skater. “Oh my god, ohhhhh my god, I need to call his parents and talk to them.”  The swiss man chuckles and pats on his back, pulling him off, then picking up his own phone and handing it over.  He picks it up and starts pacing in the waiting room, awaiting to hear the voices of his dear skater’s parents.

 

That worry sat in Chris’ gut, he’d known his mother to have to get her appendix removed a long time ago, and it was quite an incident of taking care of her after that surgery.  Of course, it was many years earlier, and he was sure the medical procedures had improved since then, yet it was still a lot of pressure to feel all in one day.  Honestly, he felt less pressure to perform than to have to be in his hospital right now.

 

_“…My performance….MY SCORE.”_   Chris grabs his phone and starts pulling up the scores for the competition, he had to see what place he ended up being in, as the first, second, and third place would be the ones to press on to the China competition.

 

First place, Jean-Jacques Leroy, that scumbag.  Second place, Minami Kenjirou.  Third place…. Christophe Giacometti.  This day could be saved yet, he’d won by exactly one point to Fujiwara Hikaru, the young friend of the second placer, and he wants to stand and cheer in place.

 

However, it appears it’s not the best time, there’s flashing outside the waiting room glass walls, and some shouting from both nurses and journalists.  _“Oh great…”_   He looks behind him at Coach Celestino, who seems to be speaking to the parents of his pupil, and doesn’t sound like he’s done.  _“I can do some damage control until everything’s taken care of, take the attention off Phichit while he’s getting cut open perhaps.”_

 

Christophe steps out and immediately notices the many medical responders who are barricading journalists from coming in any further, he rushes over to stand between them.  Turning his head to them, he tells the nurses he’ll handle this from here.  “Hello! Hello!  Everyone!” He whistles, the cameras turn to him.  “If you’ll come with me, get these wonderful professionals back to their jobs, please and thank you!”  


 

It was like holding a spoon of peanut butter before a group of dogs, they just seemed to follow him, taking pictures of the athletic celebrity and asking questions along the way.  He leads them to the front lobby of the non-emergency entrance, lucky for him he’d navigated there and not somewhere he shouldn’t be.  “Mr. Giacometti!  Is there any news about your competitor?”  One man calls.

 

Wearing his costume seemed to be getting some ganders from patients and workers, and he used this against them all by accentuating those features.  He leans back against the front desk to give a view of his seductive thighs, crossing his ankles to flex those legs.   “News that is not 100% certain, the doctors will inform his coach once they’re sure what is going on.  I came along as a translator and support to my dear friend.” He informs, looking around at the faces that surround.

 

Photos seem to be going wild, he can’t wait to use them for selfies later on, Phichit would damn him for that.  “Will you be staying here in the hospital with Chulanont until he heals?  Or will you leave for your competition?”

 

“Most likely, I’ll be heading to China to represent my country for my final year, as you all know, I am retiring this upcoming series.” As they write, he smiles, _“Good, they’re wanting to know more about me, give Coach some time to think.”_  

 

“What was it like being out on the ice while your competitor was ill?”

 

Christophe frowns, sighing, “It was terrifying.  Phichit is my friend, and he’s much further away from his usual group of pals this time around, he must be scared as well.”  He’s glancing over his shoulder, wondering if his friend will be alright, how terrified he must be to only have a stranger with broken English translate medical terms to him.  “I think I can speak for all of us when I say I will be happy when he’s posting pictures again on Instagram!”

 

The group of journalists begin to chuckle at that, one woman stands up among them.  “You reacted very quickly to help your friend, and helped paramedics with him, does your life after ice skating have any medical profession involved?”

 

He’d not thought of that before, though it would be interesting, “I’m unsure as of now, I’ll be taking a break after all the competitions to visit places in the world for fun this time around with my family.”

 

 

 

Coach Celestino gets off the phone and sighs, having to calm down some worried parents and some siblings was never a preference of his, and in his many years of coaching, this is one of the most serious instances he’s ever had to do that with.  All his students were like his children, and he adored them, Phichit was currently the oldest one of them, and by far the one he’s closest with.  The young 22-year-old had even nicknamed him, “Ciao Ciao”.  This dear young man was in pain, and he felt useless, having the responsibility to take care of him, yet being of no help to the surrounding parties.

 

When he notices, Chris talking to the cameras out front, part of him fears what he must be saying, yet the young man would never do anything to dictate the career of his friend.  He soon follows out, placing a hand on his shoulder, “Christophe, are you holding a press conference for all this?”

 

Chris stops talking, looking up to him, “I was making sure they weren’t bothering the nursing staff, we’ve just been talking about my career after I retire.  If you’d like to take over, I’ll go see if I can find that nurse I talked to earlier.”

 

“That would be great…” He nods, shaking his hand gratefully, “Don’t forget to call your coach.”

 

_Woops._  

 

 

 

Phichit feels his arms pierced into a few different times before the IV actually gets in, but the pain can’t compare to the sharpness in his stomach, like his belly button was being dug into with a blunt instrument.  The French words around him are starting to get more maddening than petrifying, he just wants to know what’s going on.  The one nurse who was talking to him in English was getting some documentation signed, and all he knew was he was going to be cut open, and his appendix was hopefully going to be removed before it bursts. 

 

He needed to call his mother, maybe Yuuri, but he needed a familiar face right now.  As he’s being rolled in the hallway down to the elevator, he looks around to see if he can find his coach or Christophe, perhaps he can at least ask them what the scores were.  He knows he didn’t place, he didn’t even finish his skate routine before he took a turn for the worst on the solid floor.  He’s sure he’s going to be sporting a bruise on his face from the way he landed, might even look bad in his selfie filters.

 

That was a good sign, he was more worried about how he’ll look after all this surgery gets finished than he is about the actual surgery.  “Now don’t be going off and doing any quad salchow’s on that operating table.”  He hears, looking over the side of his bed to see the Swiss man smiling at him, that million-dollar grin and green eyes as bright. “After all, I’ll have to pin you down, and I might have too much fun with that.”

 

He smirks at him, “Shut up, Chris…”  That voice was forced, like he could barely breathe from where he was laying; from the other party’s angle, he seemed so small and helpless buried in some blankets to combat the chills. 

 

“But seriously, I’ll see you after you’re done. I won’t leave until then, okay?”  He nods comfortingly to him, reaching over to squeeze his forearm lightly with a strong arm.

 

“You sure?” The tired Thai skater murmurs, “Because you could use a shower, you can’t just walk around in that dumb suit all day.”

 

Chris laughs, “I knew you were checking me out~ Go get yourself some rest after it’s all taken care of.  I’ll be here and I’ll have to shower per your request, your majesty.”

 

The elevator doors close, and Chris is on the side without his friend, he sighs worriedly, looking to the English-speaking nurse who’s bringing back some paperwork and the file she was given.  “Sir! Here’s the papers you brought in for your friend.”

 

“Is everything going to be alright?”

 

She whips her brown ponytail over her shoulder and sets the stack of papers in his arms.  “I don’t like to guarantee anything, that’s not my job… But I did get notification that it has yet to rupture, and that’s the best we can hope for in this. Okay? I’m going to lead you and the other visitor to the correct floor.” 

 

The elation within his heart was more relief than he could have asked for, he could swoop this lady down and kiss her if he wasn’t absolutely exhausted from how the morning and afternoon had turned out.  After this ordeal, he’s going to need to check up on Phichit, make sure he’s alright.  This was quite scary, almost losing a friend like this, being terrified that you’re their last face to see in life.  Someone so young and wonderful.  He takes his bags and ventures off to find Celestino, their days will get better once they relax in the waiting room in recuperation.


	3. On the Mend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Christophe is thinking about his future after he retires, and he's still being the number one protective friend he loves to be. He even bonds with Celestino about some ideas for his future.

 

Not only does the surgery take a while, but Christophe runs out of things to do in the waiting room.  He’s changed into some new clothes Coach Karpisek brought up to him, sat down with him to go over travel plans, said goodbye to him, and crosses his legs to await.  Perhaps this would be a good time to make sure Coach Celestino was alright, he took this information hard, and he may need someone to talk to about this.  He stands up to go get some coffee from the side of the room.  “Coach, if I may, how do you take your coffee?”

 

The Italian man jumps a bit in place as someone calls for a coach, he looks up to the Swiss student, shaking his head, “My apologies, I take it black…. I suppose my head was in another world.”

 

He brings the two cups over, sitting beside him and handing a Styrofoam cup over.  “I can see why, it’s very worrisome.  My mother had this same procedure done when I was a child, she was incredibly sick from the results, however.”  He sips his drink as the long-haired man looks over to him, gesturing him to continue.  “Oh, she’s alright today.  She had waited to go to the hospital, and her appendix had already burst, they had to keep her for about eight weeks to recover and be sure she didn’t get sicker.” 

 

“I’m glad to hear she’s alive today.”  He responds, taking a drink of the coffee and sitting forward to socialize, perhaps to ease his nerves.  “It explains why you’re so calm throughout all this.  Honestly, you held your head better than anyone in the arena.”

 

Chris shrugs gently.  “I’m a calm person, my antics are rarely extreme, very hard to get me out of that.  Yet Phichit had me close this time around, almost made me lose my cool.”  He chuckles as he sips at his warm cup, shaking his head. “What hashtag do you think he’ll post when he’s out of surgery and awake?”

 

“…Hashtag blessed? ….Hashtag alive?”  Celestino definitely had those pegged, and he chuckles at his own words, crossing his arms.

 

“Oh, I think he’d be a little more dramatic with it, perhaps he’ll post a video of some sort?”

 

“Nope.” The coach chuckles, “Definitely a picture, something vague yet dramatic.  I will bet money on it, the moment I walk in the door with him awake, he’ll ask me to take ten versions of the same picture of him lying in bed hooked up to the IV and as many machines as the nurses will allow him to use.  Then he’ll have me post it on my Instagram for the world to see it, and he’ll be instantly internet famous, _again._ ”

 

The description has Christophe laughing heartily, “Don’t tell me, he’s done something like this before?”

 

Shaking his head, Coach stands to go refill the small cup.  “No, not at all, I just know my student!  If you’d like, since he’s out of this series due to the surgery, I can get a picture of you two together. Hashtag Hero?”

 

“Quite a tempting offer!” He laughs, “Perhaps it’ll make me more popular in my final skate.  Though I barely did anything but go along and translate…” He modestly pushes the offer away.  “I’ll be here for a few weeks staying in my friend’s condo while she’s on a trip; save yourselves the hotel expenses as he tries to heal.”

 

“Oh…” Celestino sighs, “I forgot, he won’t be able to fly for a bit after this, will he? Goodness. Are you sure it would be alright for us to be there?”

 

Yet the phone is already out as Christophe stands up, texting his friend.  “I’ll ask her right now, and if she’s anything like she has been over the years, she’ll be glad to have you.  Just have to make sure to water the flowers and wipe the dirt from our shoes.”

 

There’s a sense of relief, and the coach wipes his face with one of his large hands.  “I appreciate it.  You’ve been the all-around friend today, having a solution for every problem it seems…. Are you excited to retire?”

 

“Barely.” He responds, looking over. “I would skate forever if my body would let me.  Although Victor Nikiforov has managed to reach almost thirty while skating, which is a miracle at his ancient age, my body’s bruising up and can’t move the way it used to.  I’ll travel the world and go back to school if I decide I need to.”

 

“You could coach.” He chuckles, stirring his coffee despite the fact there was no cream or sugar added, just to fidget with something to calm his nerves.  “You’d still be on the ice, keep up to date on all the competitions, still be a name the world knows.  It’s been the most rewarding part of my skating career is going back to help my students, taking care of them like they’re my children and getting to be beside the ice.”

 

Christophe shrugs, it was an option that he’d thought about before, yet he was still unsure.  Before he can respond, there’s a young woman coming into the waiting area with her scrubs and operation hairnet still on, the two stand up with anticipation to hear how everything went.  She has a smile on her face and unties the front mask on her face.  “He’s on his way to recovery, we got to it in time and he’s being set up in a room to monitor overnight, if he’s still showing signs of weakness or sharp pain, it may be two nights.” 

 

Celestino sighs excitedly, “Please, can you take us to his room?  Just so I can bring his things in and plug in his phone for when he wakes up?”

 

“Oui, yes, let me lead you upstairs.”  The nurse throws away her hairnet and the face mask into a special bin while the two gather up the bags, she returns with some paperwork.  “Now I have some special instructions for how he’ll need to be healing, whether or not he’s here or wherever you happen to be staying.  He’s going to be on a liquid diet for a little while, just for a week, then he can move on to solid foods…”

 

Ciao Ciao sighs, “Oh boy, he’s not going to like that…He hasn’t had any food since he threw it all up, and he gets cranky when he’s hungry.”

 

“What, is he a child?” Christophe scoffs, stepping into the elevator, “I’ll make him chicken broth the way my mother used to make it, that’s the best we’ll do for now.”

 

“Good! Good! Exactly the kinds of foods he should be having for the next week.” 

 

She continues to teach them of what to do, hands Christophe a list of French laden instructions of how to care for this young man, and emergency numbers in the area if anything is to go wrong.  “…. I’m leaving in like two weeks, is there any way to translate this for his coach?” He asks, she taps her chin and answers that she can’t write very well in English, but she will try her best. 

 

 

In the room where Phichit lays, he’s on his back, out cold and pale, but at last resting in his cushioned bed, covered in three blankets to combat those chills he might still get from the effect it had on his body.  Yet just at a glance while he sleeps, Christophe can notice a difference in him, and _god, what a relief._   He was so worried about him, he wanted to be there holding his hand even through the surgery, as if that would make everything go by faster, make the wounds magically heal, keep him safer.

 

“He’ll be asleep for a little while, we finished up a little quicker than anticipated.  If you two are hungry, the cafeteria is still open and it’s downstairs on the basement level floor.”  Celestino sighs, he was quite hungry.

 

“Christophe, can you keep an eye on him while I get something to eat?  I’m absolutely starved after this whole ordeal…”

 

“Please.” HE smiles in return, “Go on, I’ll make sure he’s resting up… Could you bring me some jello or a sandwich? I’m going to need some myself.”  There’s a nod, and he sits down in one of the chairs beside the bed, looking over his friend.

 

Phichit’s darker skin was not as beautifully aglow as it usually was in his pictures, which may have been filters or possibly highlighting makeup the young man enjoyed wearing, but Christophe still smiled at seeing him.  He leans over to adjust the pillow for him, pull the blankets over his chest to keep him warmer, and brush away some of the black hair that was stuck against his forehead from the surgical hairnet.  _“Hm…. Not good enough……Just to think, we all almost lost you today because you were a stubborn ass and wanted to prove yourself.”_   That made him chuckle, just thinking of the quips that would go right back at him.

 

The coach came back with some food sandwiches and gelatin, smirking at his pupil being doted upon by his friend.  “Am I interrupting you two lovers?”

 

Glancing back, the Swiss man winks, “Oh, Coach Celestino, what if a kiss wakes up the prince?” He chuckles and turns to accept the food being held out to him in a small box.  “Did you think of my offer for staying in that condo? I understand it’s all a bit much, but it will be much cheaper and much more comfortable than staying in the hotel.  In case of emergency and all.”

 

Celestino shrugs a bit, looking up.  “It’s definitely ideal, and I’m sure it would be lovely.  Your friend said she was alright with it?”  Chris nods, munching into his sandwich.  “I suppose that will be the plan then.  I wonder how long it will be until he is able to fly, I’m sure he’ll want to go home to Thailand to be with his family after this.  He was really hoping to make them proud with a gold medal. Now I think they’ll settle for an alive son!”

 

Gulp.  Oh right.  Phichit was the only male Thai skater to make it to the podium in history, and he was planning on making gold this year to bring that title to his home.  “They’re not going to be awful to him, are they?”

 

“Hm? Oh, goodness, no.  They’re the most supportive family you could ever meet.  His mother’s a CEO of a company, his father’s a novelist, and his sister and cousins always write to him.  Sometimes four letters in a week come in from them all.”  That’s a relief, he was worried there was some sort of angst ridden family story he had never heard of.

 

“Well, I can’t be surprised, have you met Phichit? He’s the most supportive person on the ice, like he wants everyone to win the same award all at once.”

 

There was a chuckle, “Yes, he would share any award with anyone after he would get gold for Thailand, he feels like it’s his responsibility.”

 

Christophe is the only one it seems who doesn’t have that sort of responsibility on him.  He’s always had a good life, he’d only ever competed due to his love for skating, yet he had no ultimate need to win every award possible.  Not for many years anyway.  Yuuri had an entire town to re-establish, and promised to win gold and marry Victor for the romance™.  Victor kept winning because he had nothing in his life until he learned how to skate, and of course until he met his fiancé.  Phichit had an entire country rooting for him on his shoulders, and it would explain why he left that country to go practice in America, where he wasn’t constantly reminded of it. 

 

 _“God dammit.  He should have been on that podium.”_   He shakes his head and looks up, “Well, he’ll be more determined for it next year, I’ll even help choreograph it if he wants.”

 

“Now it seems you’re taking my coaching advice.” He laughs a bit, finishing up his food.  “I think you would do well at it, though…a lot less butt stuff.”

 

“Coach Celestino Cialdini, you fail to realize there’s never too much butt stuff.”

 

He would bust out into laughter from the view of rolling eyes as he flips his curly hair over his shoulder, yet he holds back to be sure he’s not waking up the precious patient.

 

 

 

 

The cold room is mostly dark now, except for the light of the busy hospital hallway, and the quickly fading glow of the sun behind the slits of the blinds.  Christophe must remind himself Phichit is still breathing, watching him lay still to the pillow, lifeless to the unfocused eye.  There’s an urge in his strong arms pushing him to pick him up, hold him close, keep him safe; the stitches in his gut would advise against that.  _“I imagine he would have been fine without me coming along, I could have stayed, and Celestino could have taken care of him, held his hand and all…”_   He pulls his phone out, turning on the camera to check how he must look, his worry lines were showing.  How dreadful.   _“I about worried my hair even curlier than it was…Goodness, if I was this scared, imagine that Japanese Yuuri in this.  Victor must be on full fiancé mode.”_

 

That made him smile, at least there was something to taunt him for the next competition.  Looking up at the light of the sunset, just light enough to show the gold and violet skyline, it reminded him of the costume the patient came in with.  It gives him an idea; standing, he opens the blind so the view is full andvibrant with the glow of Paris.  Sitting back down in his seat, he has the perfect view, the silhouette of Phichit is dark, but enough to show who it is while he’s hooked up to monitors and tucked under his blanket with his IV pricked arm on the blanket.

 

Taking a few pictures, he sits back to adjust the vibrant colors, give Phichit a pale glow, and filter it all just right.  The young man would appreciate it, and will probably suggest a different filter setting the moment he sees it.

 

He glances to the seat beside him, where Coach Celestino has fallen asleep, yet stirs a bit trying to get comfortable in the chair.  “Uuuugh….I forgot we were even here….” He mumbles, sitting up a moment, his long legs stick out to stretch.  “Did he wake up yet?”

 

“No, but I got some pictures he would really like, I got one of you if you’d like to post it.”

 

There’s a disapproving grunt, “Oh, god no, if I’m asleep in my pictures, there’s no filter strong enough to make me look good, no matter what he’s taught me….Although, I can take one of you two together if you want, up that publicity.”

 

There’s a shrug, though it would be pretty cute for the two to have a little moment with the camera, he doesn’t want to exploit the serious incident against his friend’s will.  “We’ll take the picture, just don’t post anything until after he approves it, alright?”

 

He stands beside the bed, crossing his arms and smiling at the camera, but the coach does not approve.  “No, no, no,” He whispers.  “You must pose! Make it dramatic, Phichit won’t accept anything less, and you know it.”

 

Chris frowns and looks at the setting to figure it out, how to be sexy, photogenic, dramatic, and break twitter for a while.  Though the #LoveforPhichit that’s been online for the past six-ish hours is doing quite well to break it all.  “Maybe if I….”  He scoots his chair up to the bed, sits down, and crosses his arms at his friend’s side, lays his head down, and closes his eyes, all while one of his tucked hands is loosely holding onto the smooth fingers of the patient. 

 

“Yes!” Much happier, he snaps away, “My student has taught me the art of Selfies, I’ve never been as good as I am today at it, and he’ll adore these.”

 

“Knowing your student, I’m really not surprised.” He chuckles, sitting back up and pulling his hands to tuck into his pockets of his team Jacket.

 

When Christophe pulled away, a gentle groan is heard in the room, both look over to the patient who seems to be moving, his fingers gently gripping onto the blankets as his head turns. “augh…”

 

The feeling of a bubble of anticipation has burst, the whispers aren’t so quiet anyore, and the two grown men rush to each side of the bed.  “Well! Welcome back to the land of the living!” The coach smiles, saving the pictures in his phone.  “How do you feel?”

 

Phichit doesn’t answer, at least not until he rubs his eyes with a free arm and grimaces at the dull pain of stitches in his side. “Ah…I feel like hell…” His dark eyes search the room, figuring out where exactly he was groggily.  His eyes meet up with Chris’s hazel ones, slowly trying to keep his eyes open.  “Chris…you stayed?  I thought you were joking…”

 

“I told you, I wouldn’t~” he winks.  “In your drugged state, you begged me to, you even confessed your love for me~”

 

A middle finger rises, even though he didn’t have the energy for a lot of things, he’s mustered that one up, making the competitor snort and laugh.  “We had some camera fun while you were out, would you like to approve them before we post them?”

 

His arm outreached, he makes a grabby motion to see the pictures, he spends a few minutes adjusting his eyes and hands to look at the film.  “Oh, you got some while I was out….Mind if I edit myself, so I don’t look so sick?”

 

“You are sick!” Christophe chuckles.  “Besides, don’t you think it would be funnier to look more dramatic? The press would go wild over it! And your next performance would have quite the drive~”

 

“….Make me look sicker.” He smirks evilly, giving the phone back to Celestino, who’s chortling at the two of them.  “Come on, Chris, I’ll still look unconscious, and you look like you’re asleep on the other side of me here, so the shadow gets me looking all ghoulish!”  The little photographer looks up, “And you! Post that one of Chris and I with the window first, and we’ll time photos to come around every hour, with dramatic hashtags!”

 

It’s about twenty minutes of photo taking, Phichit will definitely be alright.

 

 

The moment that first picture goes up, there’s about 200 comments already lined up to come out, all blessings for Phichit to get well, and how terrified everyone was for him.  Christophe wonders if this power is going to get to his little friend’s head.  “How does it feel now?”

 

“Oh, compared to earlier? It’s like bumping into something gently and then it aches a bit.  Earlier? Pretty sure someone stabbed me in the stomach a few times!”  He smiles, looking up from his blankets, “Though I do have to say, the chills are still pretty consistent….”   He pulls up the blanket to his chin, his feet poking out from the bottom as he does so.

 

Christophe smirks and adjusts the other blankets that lay atop him so he’s tucked in, making sure he’s taken care of was his priority right now.  “Well…In all seriousness…I’m glad you’re okay.”

 

Phichit grins widely, “Well, I have you to thank for translating everything, it made me feel better about it, and you didn’t have to come at all…But you did get those medics the information faster than if we had waited for another translator…..I appreciate what you did for me.”

 

Though the Thai skater jokes a lot, he was thankful for the hand to hold through his painful experience, and Chris can see it in his face.  How scared he must have been before.  Holding his hand kept him sane when he was without his closest loved ones in the exam room, “You can make it up to me by cheering for me on while I’m competing in China.”

 

“Chris!” He nearly sits up, but the two of them hold him down warily to be sure there’s no jumpstarts.  “That’s great! You placed! I’ll be your number one cheerleader!”

 

“Now hold on…” Coach Celestino puts a hand on his shoulder. “You won’t’ be able to fly for a bit…we have to make sure you’re cleared for that.

 

Christophe smiles, “You can cheer me on while you heal.  It’ll be an overnight stay or two here, then my friend’s condo, she is letting us use it for a bit while you get better.”  He explains, “The hotel won’t be as comfortable, and she has a guest bedroom that will be easy on you, not too far from everything.”

 

Phichit blinks, “Oh, gosh, I’ll be out of here that fast?  That’s amazing!” He smiles, but then reluctantly, he looks away.  “…. Um….and it’s too risky for me to skate at all?”

 

That was a surprise, but his coach groans.  “Phich, if you get back on that ice without being cleared by a doctor, I’ll put you under house arrest until next season.”

 

There’s a sigh that comes from him, he looks longingly at his skating bags, like he wanted to immediately blow off doctors’ orders and go back to the rink to at least do laps.  He knows it would be bad for him, and instead he nods to his friend, “Well, please tell your friend I’m thankful for this…When do you leave?”

 

“I’ll leave in two weeks, I’ll make sure you’re alright, okay?”  Phichit smiles brightly at that, “Besides, the rink will be much less crowded, and if I’m going to win gold, I’m going to do it at my pace.  Oui?” He snickers a bit.

 

“If anyone deserves gold, it’s definitely you, Christophe.”


	4. Getting Comfortable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Lovely! I’ll get some delicious cuisine for us tonight, and all of us can take the time to rest. Right, Phichit?” They turn over to look where he is on the couch, and are blessed with the sleepy sight of the resting Thai boy in his oversized sweater, fuzzy socks, and holding one of the couch pillows closed to his chest. “Oh~ How cute~” He whispers. “our little prince has fallen victim to slumber~”

 

The following day was a relief for all, but mostly Phichit, he was up and walking thanks to some nurses helping him, though his organs felt like they were all shifting around heavily when he moved too fast.  Currently, the definition of too fast was the infamous old man shuffle Yakov usually did as he hunched down some hallway like a Russian beast. 

 

There was no strenuous movement allowed, even turning the wrong way could pop one of his stitches, and he’s not certain that’s the best if he wants to fly.  Getting dressed was an adventure in itself, he had to sit down and try to put on his pants without bending over, or overstrain by tugging them up.

 

Christophe comes back to the hospital room to get the last bag, as well as the patient, per Coach Celestino’s orders.  He knocks gently on the door, “Phichit? Your chariot awaits!”

 

“Hold on, Chris!” He responds with a grunt.  “I’m just getting dressed still.”

 

He’s been doing that since the coach and himself went downstairs to get the bags in the rental car.  “…Do you need some help?”

 

“Oh, I see~” Phichit coyly jokes, “Looking for any excuse to see me naked, I knew it.  You’re smitten with me. Why didn’t I see it sooner?”  He laughs from behind the door, and though Christophe joins in, he hears a sharp gasp ang a groan.  Quickly, the swiss man turns the corner and closes the door behind him to help.  Phichit is leaning on his bed, his shirt was dropped on the floor, and his pant legs are only somewhat on, except for the ankle slits which were caught on his heels.  “Heh…. get sick for one day, and I forget how to put on pants…”  He looks a little embarrassed, wanting to try to bend down to pick up the shirt.

 

Christophe smirks, “Nonsense, my dear~” He walks over to him, trying to be comforting with his tone. “You wanted to show off your abs, too bad for you, I’ll be getting you dressed instead of undressed.”  He loops his fingers on his leggings elastic, tugging up gently. 

 

“Boohoo, my plan to seduce you has been foiled.”  The younger one chuckles with an added grunting, looking down at the dressed stitches covered in medical tape and a patch of gauze.

 

His friend kneels on one knee, getting the ankles of the pant legs fixed.  “Are you sure you’ll be okay to wear your workout shirt?  …. Or rather any of the shirts you own? They’re all nearly skin tight!”  Standing again, he holds up the elastic shirt.  “Not that I’m complaining, but I think they could be uncomfortable pressing up against your wound there.”

 

“Most of my shirts are this way, I will just have to make them crop tops until the stitches are taken out.”

 

This will not do, Christophe takes his Switzerland jacket off, throwing it on the bed, then pulling his green sweater off as well, leaving him with a casual grey shirt.  “…Chris?”

 

“You’re going to be cold, and you’re going to be uncomfortable; I won’t allow it.  Besides, I look better in less clothing, studies show~”

 

Phichit can’t help but laugh, “Fine! Fine, but you’re doing too much for me.  This is the last thing I’m going to accept….”  The sweater slips over his black-haired head, it’s baggy and warm, and just his color.

 

The sleeves curtain over his knuckles, and he seems so comfortable, much more than before.  “There, you look adorable~” He chuckles, looking him up and down.  “My goodness, it’s your color.”

 

Phichit smiles and turns to pick up his gloves and hat, “Yeah? I’ll have to try to wear more of it.”  Slipping on his shoes, he turns back around.  “Do I need to carry anything out?”

 

“No, but you should sit in the wheelchair, it’s a long walk, and you might start to feel sore.”  He pulls the mobile chair up beside him.

 

He groans at that, reluctant to take a seat.  “I am a world-famous athlete, you know, Christophe.”

 

“Who got sliced open yesterday, sit down.”  With a huff, he sits down carefully.  “There, now I get to wheel you away romantically on a chariot.”

 

“Oh? I thought the car was going to be my chariot?”  He peeks over his shoulder at the man to be pushing him, one bag over his shoulder.

 

“You get two of them, because I like you.  Don’t tell the other princes in my life, I’ve got an image to uphold~” Chris stops just a few steps out of the room. “…. Phichit, there’s bound to be press, did you want to do your makeup while we’re on the trip?”

 

With a gentle nod, he gets some eyeliner out of his littler bag beside him. 

 

 

It was good that the Swiss man had urged for the wheelchair, he was already sore from getting dressed with a hole in his side, and the trip downstairs to the front desk seemed longer than he anticipated.  He waves to the kind nurses and doctors who helped him, the English speaking one even gave him a lollipop for being such a good patient.  Although it was giving Chris bullets to be teased.

 

The front lobby was filled with press, quite possibly more than yesterday, Coach Celestino was before them, getting some brutal questions as he awaited the pair.  A man with a suit on was dishing it out, “So even when your student was showing signs of illness, you had him perform anyway and then he’s hospitalized?”

 

The coach was obviously somewhat distressed, every time he opened his mouth to speak, there’s another shot fired, flown into his face.

 

Phichit was instantly infuriated, he slowly puts his makeup in the small bag beside him and hands it back to Christophe.  “Oh, Chris? Would you be a dear and take me over there?”  That sharp tone in his throat was dangerous. 

 

_“Oh, this is going to be fucking precious.”_

 

They approach the crowd of journalists, and he puts on his best little smile.  In the wheelchair, he looks so timid and frail, yet he sits upon it as if it were his throne. He looks up. “Hello everyone!  How are you today?”  They all nod gently to him, speaking little ‘fine’ and ‘how are you’ ‘s in response.  “Good! Good!”  He nods to them with his signature smile, proud and happy.  “I’d like to thank those who were in support of my coach and I through the difficult situation yesterday.  I was lucky to have such wonderful people in my life giving me warm wishes and blessing me with such kind words.”  His little eyeliner wings were sharp, his blush was light and natural, so airy and light, until his dark eyes fell upon the man in the front with the suit.  “And as for you.” 

 

The dramatic change of his tone, the snide glare that rests upon his eyes digging into him. _“Oh fuck yeah.”_ Chris smirks and nods a bit.

 

All this attention honed on him specifically.  “There’s no reason for you to be accusing my dear coach of anything, especially when it was my doing.  Celestino has been my family for seven years as I’ve been away from home, and I don’t’ take kindly to how you’re talking to that family of mine.”

 

“So…You admit that he should have known better? You put yourself in danger, and you still refuse to put the blame where it was meant!”

 

“I think you fail to realize there’s not a human being on this earth, dead or alive, ,who can tell me what to do. He begged me not to go on, and I did.”  Those dark eyes dug into the man’s faraway ones, “Now, is that all the ammunition you’ve got?”

 

The cameras flash, yet that dominant expression remains, with those words in mind, the man shakes his head and sits down in his chair.  With that, he looks up to his coach with a confident smile.

 

Christophe tries not to snort with laughter, he just assumes that his expression holding back his laughter will become internet famous as a reaction picture, that’s the most he can do to hold back.  _“That man has been obliterated, and I’m so glad I had a front row seat.”_

 

“Coach?” He wiggles a bit in his wheelchair.  “Do I need to sign anything before we go?”

 

“Um…No, I think we’re done here.”

 

“Yes. Yes we are.” Phichit agrees, tucking his hands into the long sleeves to keep warm this December day, quite pleased with himself as he glances over to that ashamed journalist again.

 

Christophe pushes the wheelchair outside to the rental car, and each step that was taken, there was a little more of his chortle that was huffing out of his pursed lips.  “You think the police will be here soon? Because I just witnessed a murder.”

 

Coach Celestino doesn’t even hold it back, he whoops and shakes his head, carrying their bags beside them.  “I think you just got that man either promoted or fired.” The swiss man clears his throat as he tries to cover up a louder chortle.

 

 

 

 

Opening the door of the condo, Christophe kicks the snow off his boots before stepping in.  “Now, I didn’t think I would have company, so all that’s in the pantry is cheese and bread.  I’m going to go get some supplies from the store and cook some delicious cuisine for our little patient.”  He sets down a few bags and walks in.  “To your right, there’s the living room, the only off limits room in this house is the wine cellar, which has a key that my friend took with her.”

 

Phichit gently sets his shoes by the door, and Coach Celestino carries in the remaining luggage, setting it along the pile Chris set down.  “Wow, this is quite spacious for a condo.  How many rooms are there?”

 

“Three, and one air mattress available in the basement.  Coach Joseph has one room, Celestino, you can have another, and Phichit will obviously be getting a bed.”  He holds his hand up, “And I will not argue on that, nobody try to trade with me on this.  I’ve already put all my things in there~”

 

Phichit is halted from arguing, and he pouts, leaning on a doorframe with heft shoulder, he felt a bit dizzy from his painkillers.  “Hey, Ciao-Ciao?”  He adjusts the long sleeves of the sweater to warm up a bit.  “Maybe since it’s too late in the season to coach anyone for competitions, you should take some relaxation time as well.” 

 

Chris notices the leaning and puts a hand on his back, gesturing him to sit on the couch as Celestino blinks.  “You know, it wouldn’t be a bad idea.  From what Coach Josef tells me, he hasn’t had a vacation since he got married.”  He adds in, wondering if his own coach had returned from his day off.

 

“Eh?”  The long-haired man looks a bit wary of the suggestion, “Well…Phichit, what if you need something? I can’t just go off and relax knowing you’re not well.”

 

Phichit sinks into the couch, the comfort was more than he had expected, and he hums at how soft this cushion was, Chris smiles down to him.  “Well,” He begins, his Swiss accent growing quieter as they had gathered in the room.  “Why don’t you go to a bookstore? Get yourself something to relax with that isn’t work involved, watch a movie, have some tea?”

 

The wise face considers it. “…I suppose a walk in the evening with some tea would be nice, and a good book before bed…. It could happen.”

 

“Lovely! I’ll get some delicious cuisine for us tonight, and all of us can take the time to rest.  Right, Phichit?” They turn over to look where he is on the couch, and are blessed with the sleepy sight of the resting Thai boy in his oversized sweater, fuzzy socks, and holding one of the couch pillows closed to his chest. “Oh~ How cute~” He whispers.  “our little prince has fallen victim to slumber~”

 

The older man looks relieved to see his student at rest, “I didn’t think he would be so willing to take it easy, even with colds and medications, he’s wanting to be on the ice.” He pulls one of the laps open on a bag by the doorway, getting Phichit’s quilt from back home, and laying it over the sleeping skater.

 

A warm sight, they were very close for being student and teacher, in the same way as said earlier: they’re family.  It grew quiet in the room, and the Swiss man nods his head. “I’ll be off to the store, and when I return, you can go do as you wish while I cook.”

 

 

 

The air was thick with the sound of bubbling fromage blanc, the tongue tingling scent of garlic, butter, fresh bread, and roasting potatoes.  Spices of rosemary, black pepper, smoked za’tar, all combined as the baked cheese tarts cooled on the granite countertop, the savory soup simmered on the stove with minced ginger dancing on the surface with the bubbles.  Christophe looks quite pleased with himself as he waits for the timer on the bread.

 

The back door opens, a bald Coach Joseph Karpisek enters with a bag from the local patisserie, smelling the air with a smile.  “Doesn’t this smell delicious!  I see you’re making your specialty, Christophe.”

 

“Hey, Coach! How was your day off?”

 

Opening the fridge, he starts putting the contents of the paper bag away.  “It was lovely, did some shopping, how are our guests?”

 

“Celestino just came back from the bookshop, and Phichit is on the couch, he fell asleep a few hours ago.”

 

“Ah, good.”  Turning to the cupboards, he starts getting bowls and plates out for dinner to set the table.  “There was some specials at the bakery, I know you said liquid diet for the young man, but I figured pudding might be alright.”

 

How adorable, everyone wanted to take care of Phichit, and he knew the skater would protest, making it even cuter.  “I think that’s on the list, thank you for picking it up.  Are you excited for us to have the rink all to ourselves for practice tomorrow?”

 

“Yes! The whole rink will be empty and you can get as much skating time as you can in!  No more taking turns with the children.”  It was then Coach Celestino peeks in the doorway, waving to see if he’s interrupting.  “Ah! Celestino, welcome to our temporary home for the next few weeks.”

 

“Ciao, Ciao!  Am I interrupting?”  He nods to Josef in a polite greeting.  Christophe pulls the bread out of the oven and sets it on top of the stove with a smile.

 

“Not at all, just discussing practice with the rink to ourselves tomorrow.”

 

Celestino blinks, his hair shifting off his shoulder as he tilts his head.  “To yourselves? I just ran into Jean Jacques’ parents, they’re still in town and said he’s staying for a while as well.”

 

A pin dropping could be heard in the room, the two look over to the other coach to see if he’s joking. “…. Are you fucking serious?” 

 

“They said he got the same idea as you, less crowded rink, and they mentioned how you promised to go out and have drinks with him.”

 

The bald one huffs, adjusting his glasses and shaking his head, “Christophe, what did we talk about with him? He’s not good for practice, did you go promising a drink?” Only to receive a scowl in return.

 

“Great.  Now I get to deal with that.” There were few things that genuinely annoyed him, but putting the Canadian skater in the mix usually sped up the process. “He makes it hard to focus, always trying to insert himself into everyone’s business.  I never agreed on those drinks.”  To be honest, he doesn’t remember what was said, he just knew it was probably out of frustration.

 

In his ranting, he stops talking at the feeling of arms wrapped around his ribs, and a gentle groan.  “It smells so good in here.”  Phichit’s voice mumbles out of his shirt, which even through the cloth, his fingers felt cold.

 

There was a warm feeling within Christophe again as he looks over his shoulder at his shorter party. “Well, well, did you sleep well?  Your hands feel like ice!”

 

There’s a little nod in his back, and he pulls his arms back so he can give into the urge to rub his eyes tiredly.  “I did, that may be the most comfortable couch I’ve ever sat on.”

 

Josef blinks at Chris’ face, how it went from so much hatred to a kindred expression full of care and adoration.  _“…. Oh, I see.”_   He continues to set the table and gestures for some help with the glasses, which the other coach gladly assists with.

 

“Good, I’m glad you slept well~ Come sit, you’ve woken up in time for dinner.”  He turns and wraps an arm around his friend’s shoulder, leading him over to the chairs.  It’s only then he sees the half-awake young man in pure beauty, the way little tufts of his hair stuck up from being asleep, how he was aglow after some needed rest, and how he seemed to wrap himself in his own hug to keep warm.  _“Oh my god, be still my beating heart.”_

 

Phichit sits down in the chair and looks between the coaches.  “Oh! Gosh, hello Coach Karpisek! I didn’t see you there.”

 

“Quite alright!” He smiles. “I picked up some pudding from the patisserie in town, it’s some of the things you can eat.  I got a few different flavors.”

 

“Wow, that’s really nice of you!” He rubs his eyes again, “I love pudding!”

 

The two of them fall into a light conversation, getting along swimmingly; it helps wake the young skater up to be speaking with someone new, asking them what they like and who they are.  It was one of the most endearing parts about him, is how he was eager to know everything about the people around him, like they were going to immediately be his friend from then on.  Usually, that’s how it worked.

 

That charm had been witnessed by the Swiss skater multiple times, between the terrified voice that made jokes to the nurses who could understand him during his incident, and all the way back when they first met during a competition when they took a selfie together.  He had that saved into his phone, it was one of his favorites.

 

Chris sets down the food on stone coasters, it decorated the large wooden table with steaming bowls and hot plates.  “Wow…This looks incredible…” The youngest one has stars in his eyes, his stomach growls for what must be the first in the past two evenings.

 

The Italian coach starts laughing, hearing the beast within his gut.  “Well, step one of recovery for this kind of thing is to get your appetite back.”  Standing up, he serves his student a bowl of soup, setting it before him.  “How do you feel?”

 

“Sleepy, but well!” He answers, bowing his head gratefully for the soup. “I don’t think the way I slept was the most comfortable, but gosh, I felt so rested waking up.”

 

Sitting across from the pair, the cook gathers solid food on his own plate, looking up across the table to the new guests.  “I don’t get to cook often, but this meal is a specialty of mine.  I hope you enjoy it!”

 

Josef snorts a bit, gaining the glances of the people at the table as he pours himself some soup in a bowl. “You only make it when you’re trying to impress someone.”

 

Lips pursed, the young Thai man tries to hold back his laughter.  These two seemed more like brothers than actual coach/teacher relationship, though he’s not one to complain about that.  He watches the glare Chris shoots beside him, his facial stubble framing his pout.

 

“If it makes you feel better, I am impressed.” He squeezes in before sassy swiss comments start flying.  “I should cook you some of my specialty, it’s also my ‘show off’ food!”  He sips from the wide spoon dripping with broth, humming at the taste of it.

 

Celestino groans, gulping his mouthful of potatoes. “Mm!” Dabbing the napkin on his lips. “It’s delicious, that dish with the cashews? What is it called again?”

 

“Gai Pad Med Ma Muang Him Ma Paan.”  Chris could tell he likes to say it, “Honestly, it’s a very Americanized version of a dish my mom makes back home, but it tastes just as good without the stuff I would use in Thailand.”

 

“I swear, I could live on that every day of my life.”  His coach adds in.

 

“Well.”  Josef smiles and glances around.  “It seems we should all get together after gold medals, and ability to eat solid foods again, and we’ll bring our own specialties to the table after China, yes?  I’ll bring my pork meatballs and peppers!”

 

Phichit starts giggling, “Coach Celestino doesn’t cook, he’s always on the go and the rinkmates and I usually meet him for dinner or pack lunches with him.  When Yuuri was living with me, we always took turns making something for him.”

 

His coach looks bashful, crossing his arms. “I could learn, I just…I’m always on the road, I can’t remember the last day off I’ve ever had.”

 

Phichit nudges him playfully.  “Hey! Someday! We’ll take a class together!”

 

Christophe chuckles a bit as he looks between the two, admiring that friendship they’d gained over the years.  He can only hope that same familial relationship with Josef continues after he’s retired, and he will most certainly keep in touch with him after he’s passed the rink.

 

After dinner and cleanup, it is relaxation time for everyone, Celestino is with some tea and an old western novel in his assigned room, Josef is on his laptop watching old movies in the office with some wine and biscuits, and Christophe is on the couch in the den, Phichit’s head rests on his lap.  “Still sore?”  He asks, a bit concerned to see his normally lively friend taking a shaky breath when he adjusts.  The black-haired head nods a bit and his hand reaches up to rub his eyes.  “Did you need a heating pad? Or a pillow? My lap can’t be very comfortable at all.”

 

“If you want me to move, you can say so.  I’m just dizzy from my medicine, maybe I should go to bed…”  He didn’t wish to move, but he didn’t want to make his host carry on like that.  “I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

 

He thinks a moment, then gently puts his hand under his friend’s head. “Sit up, but be careful.”  Phichit grunts as he tries getting up without assistance, and is able to luckily without having that sore twinge again; Chris seems to be moving around behind him.  “Okay, you can lay back now.”

 

The swiss man helps him ease back, letting his patient lay against his chest with a pillow between his legs to support his lower back.  The Thai man sighs in comfort, the feeling of someone to hold him alleviated him and made him smile and feel warm from head to toe.  “Aaahhh…” He sighs with a relaxed tone, resting upon his chest with a happy feeling in his gut.  “Is this okay, Chris?”

 

“Of course, I’m going to rub your head a bit to help offset that dizziness, alright?”

 

“You really don’t have to d-oooohhhhh~” That little moan was all Chris needed to know he was doing a good job as his fingers gently rub against his head, through that thick black hair, his patient was melting in his hands.  His strong palms gently put pressure on the sides of his head in the best way he knew how to do, like they were magic.  “Mercy on me, did you sell your soul for these hands?”

 

“No~ I just know exactly what I want to touch, and how to touch it~” He whispers to him, smirking with the sweet pout his mouth seemed to always find when he would make such a dirty comment.

 

“Of course you made it sexual.”  He chuckles a bit, still a bit lost in his rubbing.  “Maybe you should be a masseuse when you’re done with skating…or a chef, or…. Wait ,what can’t you do?”

 

Christophe laughs, bouncing him a bit.  “I can’t play any instruments…. technology is abstract to me…. I think anything involving arts and crafts is absolutely beautiful but I will destroy it…”  He starts listing, “I can sing okay, but the kind of singing where karaoke bars applaud you because you participated.”  Slowly, he pulls his hands away to look down to his friend, who has adjusted so they can glance up to each other if need be.

 

Phichit nestles his head against his chest, taking one of his hands to gently play with his fingers, comparing their difference in size of the palms and such, just fidgeting.  “And yet you’re great at skating, dancing of many sorts, you can stay calm in stressful situations…” He continues a positive list, and the hazel eyes of the 27-year-old looks down at the gentle nuzzle made him just stare, so at ease with the young skater, admiring every bit of him.  How his soft hands weren’t small, but slender and pretty, how his round cheek was squished against his shirt and it didn’t even phase him.

 

_“…. Shit, he’s talking and I zoned out, is there something I should listen to in this? Are we still talking about how great I am?”_

“Hey, Chris! Your heart’s beating really fast.”  His snuggled friend smirks, “Did you see something you liked~?”

 

“I suppose I did~”

 

Oh, he didn’t expect that, Phichit thought something sassy would be responding, instead, those words make him soften and blush, burying his face into the green turtleneck being borrowed.  “…W-Well, good.  Glad to know with stitches in me and all, someone finds me attractive.”

 

The muffled words sound so precious as the voice tries to hide away in the forest cloth, his friend smiles and leans down a little bit to whisper to his cheek.  “Was that alright? You look positively flustered.”

 

“Ah! Yes! Yeah, yeah, I just wasn’t used to it…We’re always flirty, but…”

 

“Never seriously?”

 

He shrugs, looking up to the tall counterpart, “Exactly!  I suppose I always figured your personality is naturally flirty, not that it’s any of my business.

 

Chris chuckles, “You do it too, you know.  I think you’re the only person in the world I can talk to for hours and hours on end and flirt endlessly without getting embarrassed. I tried with Yuuri one time, before he and Victor got engaged, I thought he died.” 

 

Phichit has to giggle at that, “I know him better than anyone, and I can perfectly recite in my head the sounds he probably made.”

 

Unsure if he should say anything about that moment of serious flirting that was happening, Chris pulls up his water bottle and sips gently. “…You know, there was a poll on if you and Yuuri were a thing because of all the flirting you do.  It’s why Seung Gil wore that big rainbow bird thing for that program he did like two years back.”

 

There’s a shocked look on his face, unsure if he should be offended or laughing until he pops a stitch.  “He had to wear that because of you??  I congratulated him on being so open with his sexuality on the ice! No wonder he doesn’t talk to me anymore!”

 

The Swiss man starts cackling, shaking his head and covering his face at the thought of that conversation and how it all happened.  “Oh lord, I have to tell Leo, he’s the one who bought it for the bet.  Found it off amazon or something, twelve skaters were involved.”  Phichit snorts and rolls his eyes.  “What? What’s with the look?”

 

“You’re mean!”

 

“I participated! I didn’t start it, it was Mila Babicheva!”

 

Phichit laughs some more, shaking his head.  “Of course she did!  She’s the damn matchmaker of the entire skating world, I-…”  His giggling slows down as he feels a twang of pain from too much laughter, he grimaces a little and tenses up.

 

The laughing stops, Christophe looks down protectively at his patient and puts a hand on his shoulder with concern.  “Easy, need me to move?”

 

“Nah…” HE shifts and looks under the shirt he wore at his patch of gauze, no blood or pus is showing up, so it must be alright at the moment.  “I just moved too much is all.”

 

“Good…”  He leans back again, petting his hair as if it would heal everything, he leans his nose down to press against the top of his head.  “If I ever make you hurt, don’t feel bad about kicking me or something, okay?”

 

There’s a shake in his head, glancing up to him, his dark eyes meeting with the hazel ones.  “No… actually, this is the most comfortable I’ve been for a while… Let me know when you’re sick of me, okay?”

 

With a gentle chuckle, he wraps his arms around the young Thai skater, nuzzling back into his hair.  “Impossible, chaton…”

 

 

 

 

Coach Celestino steps out from his room sleepily, having been up reading for quite a while, he lost track of time.  One thing he was certain of is that he didn’t hear Phichit’s door opening or anything in the room beside his to indicate there was ever anyone other than himself in that hallway.  He expected his pupil to be asleep before anyone else in the house, and to positively sleep in the next day due to his medications.  Slowly venturing down the hall, he checks the empty kitchen, the lonesome dining room, and at last he tries the den.  There’s no sight from what he sees, except for blond curls peeking over the top of the couch cushions.  “…Christophe?”

 

“Mmn.”  Grunts the Swiss man, opening his eyes at the sudden call of his name in the dimly lit room, he rubs his face with one hand and looks around, then down. 

 

“Shouldn’t you be in bed?”  Coming around the side of the couch, he notices that his friend is not alone, and that there’s a compromising position between that guest. “Oh.”

 

Chris yawns, rubbing his eyes wearily as he looks down to Phichit, who’s legs are tangled with his own, and cuddled comfortably against the warm host.  “Yeah…. I didn’t want to wake him.”  Even between the two talking, the young one doesn’t seem to stir in his Swiss cushion.  “What time is it?”

 

“It’s a little after 1:30, You have to be up in about four hours, Chris…”

 

“I know.”

 

“I can take him to his bedroom, let you go get some sleep.  It’s enough that you’re taking the air mattress and sleeping in the cold basement.”

 

Shaking his head, he puts his hands under the shoulders of this young Thai skater, lifting him up gently enough that he can readjust and shimmy out from beneath him.  “He’ll be fine right here; he’s having troubles getting comfortable.”  Managing to keep him from waking up, he adjusts the pillows for the stirring patient, who’s face scrunches up with discomfort for just a moment.  “Just let him sleep.  Heaven knows he needs the rest.”

 

A silent acknowledgement in yawns, they separate to their own sleeping areas; Celestino puts his teacup in the kitchen sink, and heads to his own room while Chris steps downstairs to blow up the air mattress and get some much-needed rest.

 

The Thai skater opens his eyes for a moment, looking around while his face is pressed against the couch cushion that had still some lingering warmth from the other person who was once there.  He’s so dizzy and worn out, he’s almost too exhausted to sleep, and he looks around the room tiredly with a chill in his fingers.  “…Dammit….” He knew he heard voices, and he knew by the light in the basement that’s where his cuddler resided.

 

He pulls the couch blanket overtop him and adjusts a pillow beneath his back again as he looked to the ceiling with words that dawdled in his ears from earlier, how they had flirted, how comfortable it was for them to talk so openly.  Yet as soon as they said something true and endearing, it stopped altogether.  Phichit didn’t want it to stop.  There was a voice within him that wanted more of it, that wanted to hear words whispered into his ear with gentle comfort again.  It’s the only thing that gets him to sleep that night, the ease of the feelings that sat in his chest were warmed with the accompaniment of those remembered words and chuckles.


	5. These Feelings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The guest before them chortles, holding a napkin to his mouth and over his prominent chin in case his laughter would make him a mess. “I have a feeling when Phichit is well, something similar will happen, even if his family begs him home to Thailand, he’ll take a day to be a tourist wherever he can go. I’ll have to chaperone him to make sure he’s not getting into any trouble.”
> 
> “He could always come with on my trip around the world, travel with me when I retire, my family would love hi- “His thought isn’t even finished as he catches his breath in his throat along with some chewed up chicken, dropping his fork into his plate and grabbing his napkin as he coughs. His own mind’s sentence was trying to kill him apparently.

 

Christophe rises and arrives early to the ice, amazed it was two mornings prior when he last came here and won third place in a competition, it felt like forever ago.  Walking through the cold entrance was a relief as he was more confident than before to practice on the frozen surface, a new fire lit inside him that he would win his final season here with his entire life ahead of him. 

 

“Alright, Christophe.”  Josef smiles, his coach knew this look in his eyes, and it was all he had hoped the final would be for him, this young protégé who had been his friend for so many years, “I want lunges out there, skipping a day was a risky move, so it’s back to hardcore practice.  If you’re going to win gold, I want to see all of your effort on the ice, I want to see that fire!”

 

“Yes, Coach!”  Taking his bladeguards off, he steps onto the rink, rotating his shoulders and preparing for the workout of his life.

 

They had arrived a full two hours earlier than the average practice time after hearing they weren’t going to be alone, JJ would be there, and no drink dates would be agreed to.  The next week and a half was going to be packed with rehearsing the programs, perfecting jumps, dedicating each second to how each move is expressed.

 

By the time three hours had passed, the Swiss man is out of breath, but stretching his legs to take the burning away, and there was a full difference in how he performed from it.  His carefree methods of being just who he is on the ice wasn’t enough this time, he had to be so much more, and he knew with the help of everyone around him, he would reach it.

 

It was then the doors swung open, the Canadian king of the ice stepping in with his parents and with a hearty grin in tow.  Chris glances over his shoulder, then stuffs his ear buds in, turning on his music and closing his eyes to listen deeply to the words, starting to do some squats.  “Christophe!  There you are!” The ignored stretching continues.

 

“It would seem he’s got headphones in, dear.”  His mother points, Coach Josef nods politely and waves from the other side of the ice.  “Why don’t you go say hello? We’ll get your gear out.”

 

He nods and starts rushing over, waving to the pair who were gathered at what looked like their own section of benches to set everything down, Chris was showing how flexible he still was.  “Chris, he’s coming over, please be respectful at the least…” His coach mumbles.

 

The student slowly rises to his feet after a long drawn breath, putting his fake as hell polite smile on his high cheekbones and turning.  He removes his earbuds and speaks first, “So, you decided to stick around Paris, just like me…”

 

“Yeah! I love France, language of my home and sights of the world! Plus, don’t think I forgot, I owe you a drink, big guy!”

 

Coach Josef cuts in, luckily for the Canadian.  “Unfortunately, that must wait, our houseguest may need medical attention and being intoxicated may hinder any safe driver for the hospital if need be.”

 

“Yes, I made a promise to Phichit, and I’d rather keep it than risk it over booze.”

 

The parents walk over to join them in this conversation, overhearing their son being declined for a drink after all this.  His father speaks up, “A competitor nursing a competitor back to health, it doesn’t’ sound like a smart idea for yourself Christophe, have you considered calling his family?  Or having his coach step up?  It is his job after all.”

 

Chris doesn’t even make eye contact, and his coach can sense the words about to come out at rapid fire, ready to say something, yet he’s too late.  “This is my last competition, if you remember, Mr. Leroy,”  He had paid good attention to not call him coach, even when he was one, “and I doubt the man who just got part of his intestine cut out of his body is about to compete against me for the gold I’m about to win.”  The Swiss accent may be charming and sweet, yet the words were dripped in venom, and the bite that came after was bound to be felt, “Besides, off the ice, he’s one of my best friends, and I’d do anything to make sure he felt safe when his family can’t be there.”  Putting his skates on, he ties the laces very tightly onto his ankles.  “Oh. Just so you’re up to date, It’s not in good practice to talk about other skater’s coaches either, makes me wonder what kind of teachers ridicule other teachers.”

 

“Chris.”  Josef clears his throat, “I need you to do ten laps around the rink, hips wide, finish with a triple toe loop.” 

 

“Yes, Coach.” Stepping between them to try to clear the tension in the air, his pupil is already on the frozen surface, starting to speed up. To do his stretches.

 

Those words were vicious, harm meant in every syllable, and JJ stood there at the rinks edge shocked to the sharp wounding comments that seemed to hit a nerve, he turns to Karpisek.  “Seems wound up, taking care of his friend sounds exhausting, think he’ll be okay to compete the next competition?”

 

The bald man nods confidently.  “He’s a tired man, but you’ll never meet another who would risk it all for a competitor’s health.”  Josef claps his hands together. “Chris! Faster! We’ll go over the combination one more time after your loop!”

 

Mrs. Leroy glances to her son, unsure if that was a dig at him or a competition challenge, she leans in to whisper to her son.  “Remember, they’re still competitors.”

 

“Maybe I should help them.”  He looks over his shoulder at them, his dear parents who barely seemed to budge at the comments.  “He’s not the only one who can get publicity out of this after all, he’s only the second French speaking skater in the Grand Prix Final.”

 

His father nods and smiles, “That Chulanont kid is lucky to have such good friends here for him, we’ll plan something out with Coach Karpisek, you get started on your stretches.”

 

Josef was close enough to hear it all, and he tensed up, there was no way Christophe could turn this down while still being a casually polite competitor, the skater would rip him apart.  Perhaps going out for just one drink wouldn’t be so bad compared to the Canadian coming over for a visit and bragging about his great life.

 

 

 

 

Phichit awakens on the couch quite reluctantly, he feels like he’s been asleep for one week straight, and the light hanging in the basking curtains was the first sun that had shone so bright.  He starts shifting a bit to anchor against the arm of the cushy makeshift bed, eyes searching the room for other life, where Coach Celestino reads his book in the recliner nearby.  “Hey, Ciao-Ciao….” He mumbles, rubbing his eyes sleepily.

 

Looking up from his pages, he smiles and lowers his glasses to look at him.  “Good morning, you were one sleepy pup, sleeping in until almost noon.”

 

He crosses his legs and slowly stretches his arms, being careful to the pain in his side which seems to have grown more absent from the night before, a good sign.  “I needed it, do we have any of that pudding Coach Karpisek got? I’m a little hungry…”

 

Celestino stands up with a smirk on his face, the kind that was sneaking against his middle aged face, “I’ll go see what’s in the fridge for you.”

 

 _“…Okay, that’s not weird at all.”_   He grabs his phone off the table beside the couch, pulling up what notifications he may have, his vision takes a moment to really focus on the words.  He had a text from his sister, who’s asking him how he feels and if they’ll see him sometime soon, some tweets of his competitors, including Yuuri who is posting pictures of them in relief of his friend’s apparent living.  And now…a big glass of green liquid being held before his face by Coach Celestino.  “…. What’s this?” he blinks, the thick straw was even striped like a milkshake.

 

“Just a little something your snuggly friend left you this morning before he left to go practice, romantic, yes?”  Now that devilish grin makes sense, he was being suggestive, or at least trying.  “Per his note, it’s a melon smoothie to give you energy today.”

 

Such a tone.  “That was a nice thing for my _friend_ to do.”  He blushes, taking hold of the cup and then the straw to sip, emphasizing the friend was important as obviously as he can to his coach.  “So you can stop giving me that loo-ooh, this is delicious.”

 

Sitting in the recliner again, he chuckles a bit, looking down at the sall paper sheet scribbled in the Swiss man’s handwriting.  “Oh, nothing to be ashamed about, Phichit, you just looked very comfortable wrapped up together last night.  If I’m not mistaken, he’s single.” Now that was bold, his coach dangling the swiss man’s eligibility before his face like it were a treat for a kitty.

 

Phichit glances up from his phone for a second, but goes right back to scrolling the comments on his page.  The sipping of his drink is quiet, but he’s drinking it down, as it is quite filling, and the most satisfying thing he’s had since he had the surgery.  Looks like the world is finally calming down after his quarrel with the press, perhaps he should post something soon to indicate he’s alright, as it seems he suddenly has thousands of new followers on his accounts.

 

“Oh, he left you a bit more on the note, by the way.” He sets it on Phichit’s lap with a gentle lean that creaks the cushy chair.

 

The curiosity gets him before he can stop himself, grabbing the note and holding it up to read.

 

_Dear Phichit~_

_Just four more days of liquid diet, and then I’ll make you a nice big meal.  This smoothie is a melon banana smoothie, and should give you a bit more energy today.  Call me when you wake up, I would love to talk to you._

♥ _Sincerely Chris_

There was a little heart, and he even wrote in cursive, which turns out is quite beautiful, and his eyes scan it a few different times to admire it.

 

“There’s a heart, Phichit.” That tone again in his coach’s voice was not one he was used to, and he shudders with a grimaced look on his face. “And he did ask you to call!”

 

“I see that, Coach.”  He looks down to his phone to dial him up.  “I’ll give him a call when I…. Oh gosh” Seeing his sickly reflection in his phone, he sighs.  “I need to do my makeup after this, I’m so pale!”

 

“You’re not video chatting, what do you care?” He pulls up his book, though it’s clear he isn’t reading any further, he’s too nosy on his pupil’s life.

 

Phichit at least puts on some eyeliner and some balm for a casual look, maybe a bit of highlight to keep his rosy cheeks looking so lovely.  He ignores the little chuckle heard behind him as Celestino stands up to give him some privacy, for that’s the least he can do. 

 

Soon, he’s awaiting the series of ringing to the end, calling Chris’ phone before noon was a challenge when he wanted to look good for him, despite being his patient.  There’s a click, and then a loving voice he didn’t realize he was aching to hear.  “There you are!” The speaker calls to his ears, “I was starting to think you went into a coma from your pain medication or something.”

 

“Hey! No, the meds haven’t put me under too bad, how’s your practice going?”  His smile grows big, big enough that it can be heard in his happy greeting.

 

“Oh, just fine, just miss my little patient.” That made him blush a little, “How are you feeling?”

 

“less sore than yesterday, thanks to you!  I guess you were a good cushion for me to sleep on last night, sorry I kept you so late, I know you woke up in the middle of the night to go downstairs.  I felt so bad!”

 

Chris is walking around the benches, balancing on his skate guards as he decides now is a good time to break.  “Nonsense, I was taking care of you, and I adore doing that!” 

 

“You’re the best~”

 

“Yes, come, keep saying true things, chaton~ They’re the only things getting me through my day.”  He sits down to unravel his laces.  Phichit giggles, he’s gently leaning back to the cushion, taking a deep breath as the ache begins.  “…Phichit? What’s wrong?  Is everything alright?”

 

“Yes, stop worrying, I’m just trying to sit up a bit, I promise you I’m alive.”

 

Chris is relieved, running one hand up to his head to let his fingers go through his blonde curls. “I can’t help it, I asked you to go easy on me and you committed to it so well, we had to call you an ambulance. Shakespeare couldn’t have written it any better.”

 

A deep voice takes up the air that Phichit recognizes immediately, even though he hasn’t spoken to them in about a year.  “Is that Phichit?  Little guy! How the hell are you?”  He isn’t even sure if he’s excited to hear from him, but he gulps. 

 

Chris sighs and puts the phone on speaker, setting it aside as he opens a bottle of water.  “So, JJ is here too, if you haven’t noticed.”

 

Phichit blinks as the phone changes tone, “Oh! Hey, JJ, we haven’t talked in a while.  Why are you still in Paris?”

 

How people could manage to be so polite to that egotistical asshat was beyond the Swiss one’s mind, and he gets a bit quiet over the line. _“Ugh…at least Phichit can handle him.”_

 

“Well, I thought if you needed any help and your dear friend was unavailable, I could step in! That, and the rink is nearly barren, perfect to skate without all the press hounding us!” The Canadian walked around, picking up the phone with him as he goes.  “Do you need anything while you’re down? Isabella makes a mean pasta if you get tired of Swedish food!”

 

_“I’m from fucking Switzerland you Enfoiré.”_

 

“Thank you, JJ, but I’m actually on a liquid diet right now…And Chris’ cooking is absolutely wonderful.  I don’t know how I’m going to repay him for being my hero.  Speaking of your wife, how is she feeling? You two are expecting while you’re in competition, right?”

 

 _“How does Phichit know so much about…? Oh, right, he’s the king of social media, he knows everything the internet knows….Gosh, JJ is going to be a dad?  I didn’t even know he and that lady tied the knot._ ” Chris listens, gulping down some more water as he looks over, awaiting for his phone to be free once more.

“Oh, we’re excited, Phichit! This year’s theme is on family, so I’m skating for them, we just found out it’s going to be a little girl.  She’s about 28 weeks along.”  Wow, that almost sounded genuine, it’s strange for Chris to hear JJ talk about anyone but himself.

 

“That’s so sweet! I wish you three the world and more! And tell her to keep me in mind for the baby shower, even though I’ll be across the globe. Okay?”

 

Suddenly, JJ didn’t sound like his skating name, his stage personality, for once he sounded human.  Even the confident pose he always heled looked less like the stance of an asshole wearing a cape with his own name on it.

 

“Well, thank you! Get better soon, I gotta call the wife and make sure she doesn’t need anything at our rental.  Thanks for reminding me.”

 

“Great! Give her my congrats, and thank you as well. Can you pass the phone back to Christophe?”  When JJ hands the phone back to Chris, he smiles, and goes right back out onto the ice to get where his parents stand on the other side.

 

The Swiss man holds the phone back to his ear after taking it off speaker.  “You seemed awfully chummy with our fellow man, do you have another best friend I didn’t know about? Are you cheating on me?”  He jokes with a little smirk on his face.

 

Phichit’s sigh of relief says otherwise.  “I hoped the entire time Isabella was his wife and not his mom, I haven’t talked to him in ages and it’s never about personal stuff…. Oh well, it sounds like he’s happy.”

 

“Well, that’s a surprise! You talk like you’ve been best friends for years!”

 

The little hum on the speaker sounded a bit sultry suddenly, which was a rather sharp turn.  “Chris, did I tell him he’s a sexy beast or comment on his body?”

 

“…. No.”

 

“Then I didn’t talk to him like he’s my best friend, did I?  Seriously, people would think you and I were fuckbuddies if we talked openly like we do on the phone and under the roof of this condo.”

 

The comments the blond one has lined up for that are endless and he bites his lip, “Are you saying I can’t tell people how delicious you are without them taking it the wrong way? Oh, damn~”

 

The giggle suits the tone, “You can keep telling people, because you know it’s true.”

 

Their casual flirting knows no bounds, and the two are right back where they started, making themselves giggle at the thoughts, though after yesterday’s comment, it’s almost too much.  “People think I’m the dirty one, but they’ve never had the absolute torture of being teased when talking to you, you give me such a bad name!”

 

Phichit’s voice lowers as he glances around.  “It’s more fun to be bad than it is to be good, though I can be either depending on what my partner would like me to be~ I’m easy~”

 

Chris has to blush, taking a deep breath through his nose.  “You’re bad for me, chaton~”

 

“I have to give you something to think about when you’re getting sexed up on the ice~ Though it probably isn’t the first time.” 

 

Well, if that wasn’t a passionate innuendo, Chris didn’t know what was. “…U-Uh…”  For once, when it came to sexual comments, he’s rendered speechless, he’s actually unable to come up with some sort of formidable sentence.

 

“…Too much?” Changed to a sweet little peep in an instant from the young Thai man, and he melted at the sound of his words turning so soft.  “I’m sorry!”

 

“N-No! No!” He clears his throat and looks around, wondering if anyone was listening in on this.  “Just amazed is all! You managed to shut me up when it came to sexy things, I suppose I’ve got a few things to learn from you~”  It does seem as though his coach is nowhere to be seen, which probably means Karpisek is looking for him.  “I will go ahead and let you go, I’m going to get Josef and I some lunch.”

 

“Okay, I’ll talk to you later then, Chris, have a good skate!”

 

Hanging up, Chris stares at his phone a moment, the cold air was unsually warm around his stubbled face as he takes another deep breath, his chest thudding through each exhale like it could echo on the rink.  His fingers were clammy, the dull light starts to fade on the picture of Phichit’s contact, and it made him want to look at the picture longer.

 

“Chris?”  Coach Karpisek walks up behind him, nearly making him jump in the air.  “Easy now! I’m going to the café to get sandwiches, just wanted to know if you want to break for lunch while JJ does his skating routine.”

 

The Swiss man looks over, having to take a moment to process the words before clearing his throat.  “Oh, yes, let’s go.”

 

The wary expression was probably a reaction to the expression his student had.  “You look pale, are you tired?”

 

“Probably.” Yet chris knows this feeling exactly, the bubbling sensation of wanting to talk more, as if his chest was filling with water but he was happy about it.  The feeling of wanting to drop everything to go home to Phichit; no sex or cuddles, but just to see him, that alone would be enough.  “The sandwich place across the street, yes?” He keeps looking to his phone as he lifts his heavy bag to walk with.

 

Josef sighs and reaches over to grab at it, looking up to him.  “Chris….”

 

“What?” His lost eyes focus on the coach and he clears his throat.  “I’m hungry, let’s go.”

 

The sturdy hand of his mentor is placed onto his shoulder, and though he’s much shorter, it stops the tall student from taking another step.  “I know that look, I’ve been your coach for twelve years now… Why are you distressed?”

 

The skater shakes his head and rubs his temples, there’s no avoiding this conversation.  “…Coach, you know skaters dating is rarely a smart choice, most of us live countries away from each other, full continents maybe.”  It was an unfortunate reality Chris had learned the hard way once or twice before, and it was nothing but a relationship with his phone and computer when he was half awake.

 

It’s too hard to fall in love while being a world away, and he was welcome to the idea of settling down to be with someone, to think of the future.  Yet he didn’t know if these were the real deal, or if this was a crush that would fall apart after a month.

 

Josef pats his shoulder, trying to get his attention again.  “Perhaps you start, yes? I mean… You’re retiring, you have the freedom to live wherever you wish, the option to be open about your relationship without the press caring.”  The older gentleman sits to rest his knees, the athlete joins him.  “You know it’s your choice, I know it too… but you need a nudge sometimes.”  That gained a chuckle out of the both.  “You’ve been friends with Phichit for years… have the feelings been recent?”

 

“Well…not exactly…”  Christophe sighs, looking down to his screen.  “I’ve felt them before, but I ignored them because we always live so far apart from each other, and though we flirt all the time, it’s become the only way we can really talk.  But…here he is, we’re under the same roof…I can’t take advantage of his surgery to get close to him, that’s not fair.”  He shakes his head.  “It’s not why I started taking care of him.”

 

There’s a smirk hiding in the coach’s face at that, detailed in the wrinkles that sat against the sides of his eyes as he bumps his shoulder against his student’s playfully.  “Talk to him, if worse comes to worse, he’ll be flattered, but will decline your offer.  Perhaps this will be a beautiful thing, you don’t know it… You fell asleep in each other’s arms last night, after all.  You don’t just do that with anyone.”

 

About to speak, he can hear the Canadian on the phone nearby, his voice was hard to miss even if one tried.  “Bella, baby, I’ll buy our baby girl every croissant in Paris if I have to, I’ll be there as fast as I can!”

 

That’s their cue to get up, and Chris decides this is the best way to get this conversation mobile, picking up his bag again.  “Come on, I’m starving.”

 

 

 

 

 

Phichit stands up, walking around the house to give some movement to his normally athletic his body, back stiff from sleeping in one position all the time.  The location of the stitches on the lower right side of his abdomen kept him from being able to roll onto his side or his stomach where he usually slept, and being so drugged up the past few days and immobile made him quite sore.  Though due to his many hours of sleep, he’s feeling an energy surge he can’t describe, but it was unbearable to sit still anymore, even if it was best.  He was stir crazy, these halls weren’t enough to sate the buzzing restlessness in his muscles that would normally be working out on the ice like he did every day.

 

“Ciao-Ciao!”  He calls, hoping to hear a response back, “Can we go somewhere? For a walk or something?”

 

He finds Celestino in the office, typing up an email with his reading glasses sitting on the brudge of his nose.  “On a walk? You should be resting, not taking a tour of paris.”

 

“Coach! I’m so bored! We would be training right now if my appendix didn’t misbehave, my arms and legs are aching to do something!”

 

His coach looks over him, noticing the difference in energy he seemed to have since he’d been on this pain medicine, he looks down to his laptop screen with a gentle sigh.  “Are you sure you won’t be sore from walking around? You laughed to hard yesterday after dinner and needed to lay down, ended up sleeping against your Swiss lover until the early AM.”  Hoping to make him blush and pout to change the subject, he’s disappointed as Phichit crosses his arms instead.

 

“There’s a store I want to go to, get some loose shirts and sweaters so I don’t wear all of Chris’s clothes, and I want to cook for him so he can rest tonight!”  He was persistent about his decision to go outside, to do all these activities and show his appreciation.

 

Celestino’s eyebrows furrowed as he frowned, “Phichit, you can’t hope you’ll be so well to cook after two stores with shopping, why don’t you save one for tomorrow?”

 

“I just need a few things food wise! And I only need a few sweaters! It won’t take long at all, it’s just to get myself some needed stuff, and I can make a list if it’s too much to walk around the grocery store!”

 

There was a determined look, one that the coach remembered a few days ago when he was begging his student not to compete and he wouldn’t bow to the orders.  He knew the student would sneak out without him if he refused to take him, and with a hearty sigh, he closes his laptop and sets his glasses down.  “Where are we going?”

 

 

Christophe’s head is packed with thoughts on his way home from practice, his hazel eyes out the window scanning over the signs of shops as his mind wandered loosely.  Declaring to JJ he would raincheck on company at the condo tonight was polite, and quite a relief, not sure if he could handle hosting another pair.  As much as he adored caring for others, he was already worn out from working at home as well as the ice.

 

Perhaps he would think of that while he was deciding his future beyond the figure skating career he would soon be leaving.  As the car parked in the garage, he picks up his attention, unbuckled his seatbelt in the passenger seat, and steps out of the car.  His bag hoists up onto his shoulder as he thinks of what simple thing he could cook for tonight for everyone.

 

His coach was talking to him, but he was barely listening, sore from working so hard on the rink surface today, tired and uneasy.  His feet were pounding specifically from the bruises and cuts that came with working as hard as he did today.

 

They walk in the side door, setting the bags by the shoe rack, when an intoxicating scent reached them.  “…Coach, did you put something in the crockpot before we left today?”

 

“Not at all! Did they get carry out?”  They slowly venture over to the kitchen, peeking in to see Celestino stirring a skillet carefully and keeping an eye on the clock for how often to do so as it sat on the stove, simmering.  “Now see here!” The coach smiles and walks in, “Who said you don’t know how to cook? IT looks incredible!” An approving slap on the shoulder almost makes him drop the spoon in surprise.

 

“Ah! Hey!” He turns the burner off and smiles back, “Don’t assume this was all me, I’ve just been making sure it doesn’t burn.”

 

Chris enters, surprised by how his stomach pulled him in like a dog on a leash, the hunger he didn’t realize he had dissolving him of those complicated thoughts.  “Don’t tell me Phichit did all this.”  HE goes to grab a plate beside the burners, ready to get a serving for his starving tummy growls.

 

The long-haired coach nods, stepping aside for the hungry hosts. “Yes, all up to about a half hour ago.  Get this, Phichit begged me earlier to go out with him to get some sweaters so he wouldn’t use up all of yours, and so he could cook you two this big meal as a thank you for all the troubles.  Insisting he wouldn’t be overworked, and he finally started to crash when this was finished.”

 

Chris stops loading his plate, looking to the other coach with concerned eyes, as though he could suddenly go without eating altogether.  “Is he alright? Where is he? Has he eaten?”  Setting the dish at the table, he takes his coat off to go in search of his patient.

 

“Chris!” Celestino frowns and puts a hand on his shoulder.  “He’s taking a shower before he gets to bed, I took him to his room so he’d be able to get everything ready.  Sit and eat before you go check on him, give him a chance to get comfortable and be fully dressed for his own decency.” It was enough to halt his steps, to at least hinder the protective feeling that took over the overwhelming hunger.

 

“…Right, I’ll check on him when dinner’s done.”  He turns back around to go to the table, his plate was glistening with a golden-brown sauce, some stir fry with cashews, snap peas, chicken, the usual pieces one would find in a skillet dish like this.  Yet it was unlike stir fry Chris had eaten before; though he’d never tasted it before, this plate tasted like a form of home, like it was nostalgic.

 

That first bite, he looks over to Celestino with a serious gaze, understanding how he could eat this nearly every day.  “…Coach, his specialty is indescribable.” The knowing nod from the guest sitting across from him is smug and proud he had helped cook it.  “So…You guys went shopping today.”

 

“Only for a little bit, I made him sit in the car for some of it, he just needed to get out and do something other than sleep.”

 

Josef is humming with delight of the hot dish before, adding some pepper flakes to get some spice in it.  “Probably best, after Chris’ mother recovered from her hospital stay years back, she declared a beach day.”

 

Chris laughs at the memory, “Which turned into beach week.” He shakes his head and thinks back on those endearing memories, as these flavors made him think of memories he adored about his family.  “It was fall, the warm weather was already leaving and she still wanted to go because she was in a hospital bed for about eight weeks, and complaining she’d missed her entire summer!”

 

The guest before them chortles, holding a napkin to his mouth and over his prominent chin in case his laughter would make him a mess.  “I have a feeling when Phichit is well, something similar will happen, even if his family begs him home to Thailand, he’ll take a day to be a tourist wherever he can go. I’ll have to chaperone him to make sure he’s not getting into any trouble.”

 _“He could always come with on my trip around the world, travel with me when I retire, my family would love hi- “_ His thought isn’t even finished as he catches his breath in his throat along with some chewed up chicken, dropping his fork into his plate and grabbing his napkin as he coughs.  His own mind’s sentence was trying to kill him apparently.

 

Josef drops what he’s doing and stands up, starting to pound a fist against his back to help somehow. “Chris! Careful!” The extra force helps him cough the murderous bite into his napkin.  “Did you eat too fast?”

 

He nods, still coughing a bit, standing up to get a glass of water, maybe he was thinking about this relationship between himself and his patient a little too casually.  Obviously, these feelings meant something, yet the way he was thinking was a bit overwhelming, like his brain was pushing him as hard as his coach was to ask him out.

 

Phichit was in a brand-new sweater, a nice purple one that was still lose against his flat abdomen, as not to disturb the medical dressings. After a much-desired shower, he lays in bed, half asleep from doing so much, and wanting to stay up long enough to sleep the whole night peacefully.  After today, he’d most certainly overworked his tired body that was just trying to get some rest; even laying down felt like his stitches had a heartbeat from stretching and picking a few things up.  Surely he couldn’t have hurt himself, as the fresh coating of gauze patch that had just been put on his showered skin wasn’t stained with any unwanted stains.

 

His eyes were heavy, even talking with his family on the phone before his shower was overwhelming to him, so much so he told them he needed to rest and had to get cleaned up before bed.  They understood of course, they wanted him to get better, but usually he could be on the phone for hours with them talking about his day.

 

The door is rapped on with a gentle knock, it’s what kept his grey eyes from closing all the way, he lifts his head up wearily to mumble. “Come in…”

 

The door cracks as the blond curls poke in, a sunshiny face next to appear in the half-lit room.  “Hey, you~ I heard you had a big day~” HE whispers quietly, a smile lit up from his patient. “But I think it’s fair to tell you that buying me dinner won’t guarantee I’ll put out.”

 

He expected the Thai skater to sit up and want to talk immediately, and he’s trying, but his energy is that of the moment he woke up from surgery, it takes him a moment and a pained grunt to get up to a better position.  “Y-Yes it does, Chris, you always put out…”

 

“You know me too well, but you look like you’ve been hit by a train; do you need anything?”  HE goes to the other side of the bed to sit on the edge, looking at how the dim light of the room sat against the shadow of his face.  “Have you eaten? Do you need water?”

 

“Nah…” The young man shakes a bit.  “I need to lay back down, I’m sorry, Chris. I don’t mean to be rude, but it hurts.”

 

Oh, that poor patient.  “Oh, no, no, no, no! Don’t apologize for that.” He even leans over to fluff his pillows. “You need to be comfortable, you did a lot today.”

 

“I overdid it, I thought I could handle it, but obviously not...”

 

Chris smiles in relief, glad the answer was rest, and not a trip to the hospital; he sidles in to make sure he was warm, though he sits on top of the blanket.  “And yet you’re still such a cheerful little lovebug, how is that? I’ve been exercising all day and listening to a soon-to-be father talk nonstop about his precious girls, I think I have more reason to be exhausted than you do.” He taunts, a smirk on his face.

 

Phichit giggles and pulls the blanket up, trying to roll onto his side to get rid of his back pain, being as careful as he can. “Shut up, Chris…” With a gentle grunt, he shivers and presses his forehead against his friend’s chest for comfort.  “I’m cold from my shower, so I’m sapping your wonderful body heat.”

 

The strong arms of his older friend scoop him close, feeling himself already hot in the face regardless of the fact there’s more than one reason for it.  “Take all the heat you want, Chaton, you need it more than I do…Here, let me get your pillows.”  He pulls down one of the many, propping it behind his back so he can lean on an angle.  There’s already a relief as he leans back a little, not having to use his midsection muscles to stay on his side on his own.

 

Phichit can hear the soft thudding of his heart again, how it was fast as the night before, when his friend who had never sounded nervous before flirting with him was so open with how he had felt.  “Y-You can leave whenever you want, don’t let me keep you, okay?”

 

“Shhhh, you won’t keep me, I’ll keep you. Keep you warm, keep you safe, and make sure you’re comfortable.  The bed is big enough for us both, alright?”

 

“Then get under the blanket, you’ll get cold too.” He mumbles, stretching his toes under the cushy blankets and leaning back on the pillow softly, those grey eyes were on their way to shutting for good, as he’s absolutely exhausted from this.

 

Chris is careful to pull up the comforter and get under it, leaning over to cuddle up as well to the young Thai skater.  Though he’s been battling with feelings today, he knows this will make Phichit happy, and it will help him get the rest he needs if he’s healing up properly.  He’s barely next to him a minute before the gentle rhythm of his sighs take over the sound of the condo creaking in result of the wintery wind, he’s asleep.   He looks more tired asleep than he did awake, was it possible he was holding back how tired he was?  _“What were you thinking, Phichit? You could have hurt yourself again…”_  

 

 


	6. Ne Me Quitte Pas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Swiss skater draws along the rink, barely acknowledging his coach, he’s in deep meditation of what to say tonight as he didn’t expect to get this far. “Now…what exactly am I looking for? I haven’t been in a committed relationship since over a year ago, and that only lasted a few months…I’d adore more than that, I think I’m ready for a good long relationship… But does he want that?”

 

 

The alarm that buzzed on the nightstand at 5:30 AM was less than disturbing, but more than appreciated as Chris reflexively reached over to slide his finger on the screen.  Eleven hours of sleep, he hadn’t slept that long since he was a teen, and it made his wake up a little easier to do.  The moment he rolled onto his back, it was as if he never needed sleep again, though the rest of his body wants to go right back to that curled up position and try.  The ceiling fan wasn’t something he’d noticed in the basement before, perhaps he just never paid attention.  Then again, the cold feeling he was used to having on the air mattress wasn’t there either, nor was the squeak of the air leaking from the plug when he shuffled. 

 

_“Wait a minute…. I’m not in the basement…”_   He glances beside him at the window, recognizing where he ended up falling asleep, the room Phichit was resting in.  HE sits up to see if his patient had been disturbed by the noisy alarm on his phone, only to see the bed contained only one body.  _“Oh dear, I hope he hasn’t fallen out, or isn’t needing my help…”_  

 

Turning on the light in the room, it’s apparent there’s no sign of Phichit, other than the shuffled blankets on the other side of the bed and his cell phone on the nightstand.  The bathroom was empty as well, and cleaned for some reason; the young one must have tried to clean it up after his shower last night.  _“independent little shit, I can’t get him to sit still, can I?”_

 

Perhaps it’s best to check the rest of the house.

 

Phichit is on the window seat in the front of the house, looking out at the dark early morning longingly, his grey eyes were almost light blue as he gazes to the streetlight shimmered snowflakes that fall thick upon the ground.  The world was unwound, still, time didn’t exist, it was like he had a front seat to the first snow to ever grace the earth.  There’s just the shadows cast of the bright moon, it takes its rest on that round face, shadows tracing his eyelashes and lips and fingers.

 

_“I should call them…. mom would be getting up for work right now…”_   He thinks, holding a half empty mug that steams of spices from herbal tea, having boiled some before he sat down about a half hour before. _“What could I even say?  She probably has so many questions for me.  And dad will want to ask how it makes me feel…”_  

 

Though the quiet of the room was silenced with the wind that gently moaned against the windows, Phichit’s thoughts were soured with noise that wouldn’t let him rest.  He’d had a dream he went home and they were angry with him, the entire country, and he was going to be banished or kicked out, though he knew it was impossible to do that over not winning a medal.  It kickstarted him into thinking of finally giving a phonecall to his family, who must be worried sick after not hearing from him for a few days, and were ultimately concerned with his wellbeing.

 

He was being selfish, but he needed to be, just a while longer.

 

“♫ Ne me quitte pass….♫ ” Chris gently hums in the darkness, barely louder than a whisper.  Phichit gasps a bit at the new noise in the room, which seemed to mute the words that ran through his mind altogether.  “♫ Qui s’enfruit deja, oublier le temps…Des malentendus et le temps perdu…. ♫ ”

That saunter that came in with his voice, gentle as it warmed his guest by the window, it helped lift the pressure away from his temples as his ears drank in the music of this quiet morning.

 

The young Thai skater starts recognizing the tune as the Swiss man walks over, the song he skated to almost a week before, the program that got him into third place.  He smiles to scoot over for him to sit next to him, wanting to hear more and more. “♫ Moi, je t’offrirai des perles de plue, venues de pays.  Oui l ne pleut pas….”  Chris lowers and sits across from him in the cozy window seat, smiling back and taking a gentle bow of his head.  “Good morning, Chaton~”

 

Phichit nods a bit, sipping the mug of warm tea hidden in his sleeve wrapped hands, fingers all that’s visible from the steaming mug.  “You were right, you do sing rather well.”

 

“Why thank you, I’m glad you seem to be under my spell~ You’re up very early.”

 

His friend nods and looks out the window.  “I slept too long, so I came out here so I wouldn’t wake you.  You were really tired, barely moved when I rolled out of bed, must be working hard.”

 

Christophe notices something in his voice, unsure if it was something to be concerned about, or if he should even press onto it.  “How do you feel after yesterday?”

 

“I’m alive, and I know my limits a little better now that I went through it…How do you feel?  You were exhausted yesterday.  I noticed…. it’s why I wanted you to sleep in a real bed, not that air mattress downstairs.”  Chris blinks, and looks back out the window, some steam from the draining cup has traced along the sides of the glass panes. 

 

“You took good care of me, Phichit, thank you for letting me be your little bed guest.”  He smiles, adding a bit of extra smile in there, watching his face to see what he does.

 

With a gentle sigh and a last sip of his mug, he answers, “Good.”  It’s a bit worn, yet his friend can’t tell if it’s emotional or physical, ,perhaps the tea was bogging him down.  Yet Phichit was thinking of his program, how he had gone from the top to the bottom so fast.  His blazing optimism he was always so famous for was dim like a dying flame begging for more kindle, and he seemed to be about to burn out.  “Chris…Can you keep singing?”

 

That was what gave him direction, he knew something had to be emotionally wrong now.  He leans a hand down to pick up the empty mug from between his sleeved fingers as he replies with a quiet and supportive voice, “Of course, I can…. But it might feel better if you tell me what’s wrong, so I can be there for you.”

 

When the warmth of his cup has left his hands, Phichit sighs as his herbal heated breath fogs up again on those glass panes in the windows.  He tucks his hands deep into his sweater as he looks down, but answers honestly.  “I’m worried about what it will be like when I call home…”  His voice cracks, not with tears or with sobs that are bound to happen, but with unsure translation as he digs in his brain to try to find the right things to say.  “I haven’t been home in so long, I was going to make history…. I know my family will love me no matter what, but I was going to make them proud.  I was going to bring home gold.”

 

The seriousness in the air thickened and the young skater pulls his knees up to his chest carefully as he huddles up, legs stiff and lip sore from biting nervously.  Chris wondered how this side of him was doing, as it hadn’t reared its ugly head since the thai skater had been sobbing in pain in a hospital bed.  “Your feelings are very Valid, and it feels awful to have to go through another season without bringing home gold… Let’s talk about this a bit more, yes? Who was the last skater from Thailand to bring home an actual medal.?”

 

Glancing up at the Swiss man, he thinks a bit, “Well…her name was Mimi Chindasook, she got 9th place in juniors, I think almost ten years ago…”

 

“And you’ve brought two silver medals home from Grand Prix series, not including internationals, worlds, and local competitions where you’ve brought home awards unlike any of them.  You’re the first male skater from Thailand in history to perform in the Grand Prix Final, and the very first Thai skater in general to get as far as you have…You put your home on the map in figure skating as far as I’m concerned.” 

 

It was strange hearing the Swiss man rant, it was almost rare to get more than just a single sentence at a time from him, yet Phichit counts himself lucky.  His smile returned at the empathy followed by the pep talk of champions by his friend.  He knew his fans back home would love him so much more if he had gold, but if he was alive, they’d be happier that way as well.  “I at least have a good excuse this time around, hard to be mad at me for almost dying to bring my country pride.”

 

“That’s the spirit~” Christophe hums, reaching down to take a hand in comfort, squeezing the bronze fingers with his pale ones endearingly.  “And if anyone gives you trouble, I’ll give them a reason to really be upset~”

 

Phichit giggles and squeezes his hand back, putting the other sleeve covered one in the mix and pulling them close to hug to his chest, like they were an actual hug.  “Thank you… You’re right, it does feel better than the song… Though it is a beautiful one…”

 

The subject changed, Chris keeps an eye out for any further hint that it needs to continue, “Yes, it’s quite beautiful.  Though it’s the first song in ages I’ve skated to that doesn’t have sexual lyrics in it.”  What a surprise, and by the expression on his rival’s face, he noticed it. “Oh, don’t look so curious about it, I like other music besides the sex stuff.”

 

“Like what?”

 

“Well…I adore Jacque Brel.  Very old school musician, I’ve always admired his work and I’ve wanted to incorporate it into my skate somehow while still skating to my theme… Though the angst in sex is ridiculous now that I look back on it, isn’t it?”

 

Phichit shakes his head, disagreeing completely as he releases his friend’s hand.  “Not at all, honestly, it’s very creative.  How you can make it so sad and sexual at the same time for this theme is beyond me, and you’ve done it for two different songs too.  The locals here seem to be tearing up at the sound of the song.”

 

“It’s pure poetry, is why.  It’s beautiful and romantic, it’s sad and elegant; it’s why I chose it.”  Phichit leans in, that smile wants to hear further.  “…. Yes?”

 

“Can you tell me what the lyrics mean?”

 

The blond smirks, shaking his head a moment as he chuckles, but then shrugging. “If I do, you might fall in love with me~ Are you willing to take that risk?”

 

Rolling his eyes, the younger one chuckles and nods.  “I’ll take full responsibility for requesting it, Chris.  Butterflies in the stomach and all.”  He pulls his sweater’s comfy neck cover up a bit more as he leans back, watching Chris chuckle and look out the window for a moment

 

The silence almost deletes his conversation; it’s intoxicating to see each fat snowflake on its journey down.  “Don’t leave me.” The words jump out, almost surprising Phichit.  They’re…. sad, and sincere, it only takes him a moment before he realizes this is how Chris will recite those lyrics.  He clears his throat and looks out the window a moment as he gathers the translation in his head.  It’s quite peaceful.  “Don’t' leave me…. You have to forget; everything can be forgotten that is flying away already.  Forget the time, the misunderstandings, and the time that was lost trying to understand how these hours can be forgotten….”

 

They dug into the skin, like nails that made his chest heavy, he leans forward to listen, lowering his legs to cross them by the ankles as his comrade talks. “Those that are killing sometimes, with whys that hurt like punches.  The heart of happiness.”

 

Christophe appears bottomless in thought, not like he’s thinking too hard, but that he’s remembering something from a long time ago, the feeling of being with someone.  It’s suffocating his tone; it’s caught in every word he speaks as he dialogs further. “Don’t leave me…. Don’t leave me…Don’t leave me… Don't leave me….”  He looks over to Phichit, hazel eyes are softened in a way he hasn’t seen before.  “I will offer you pearls made of rain, coming from countries where it never rains…”  A choke in his throat sat, unlike a crying choke, but as one so desperately trying to express how endearing these lyrics were.  It was like his entire world was washed under a bridge in a flowing river, yet he had this hand in his own, and he squeezed onto it as he listens. “I will work the earth until I die to cover your body with gold and light… I will create a kingdom for you…Where love will be the king”

 

Phichit gets closer with each word uttered. “…where love will be the law…” His eyes shut as he leans up to Christophe, a breath the only thing away from their lips touching. “where you will be th-“  He barely realizes the instant it happens, the Swiss man draws a breath in through his nose as those lips meet.

 

Between the words of adoration and the snow of this wintery day, somehow this kiss had been meant for this moment, right in the middle of where it felt right and sane in the busy lives of the world united. He doesn’t pull away, he can’t pull away, this moment is theirs.

 

He’s not sure what he imagined Phichit’s lips feeling like, but they’re softer than skin he’s tasted before, still spiced with the flavor of orange and cinnamon.  While the Thai man had imagined his partner’s would be flavorless and rough, they were like petals surrounded by the gentle pricks of his stubble, and when they had been introduced, there was an unsure feeling.  Their tongues toyed behind lips, not wanting to intrude, yet wishing to be unleashed in the gentleness shared.

 

Phichit pulls back to catch his breath, gasping barely into concern, not too far, as they’re still so close, in fact pressed chest to chest, hands still entwined in each other somehow, and they catch their breath as the pressure finally bursts from being under this romantic tension for days.  “….. Chris, I’m s- “

 

“Don’t.”  He murmurs, closing his eyes again as he presses his cheek against his patient’s, their mouths still so close to each other, aching for more to taste.  They sat there in the winter morning’s window, unsure who should initiate the next one, and how it should be.  This was a comfort indescribable, just against each other was more than they could ask for, and the kiss was overwhelming. 

 

Phichit can’t help but need this kiss, and by the way the opposing lips nibbled at his own, it was apparent Chris needed it too, _badly_.  His hands untangle from the grip that was set on those pale fingers, trailing onto the Swiss man’s shirt, unsure of what to do with themselves.  They needed to be on him, that’s all he was sure about.

 

Meanwhile, these sturdy hands knew where they wanted to be as he cupped the heart shaped face in his palms, delicately tugging him closer as he trembled.  His chest felt like it was being filled with hot lava, like he was drowning in it as his nerves sizzle beneath his skin.  Bite after bite in the kiss gave gentle sighs between them.

 

Chris usually knew what to do when a partner would stay as close while a kiss ended, how to move his hands, how to peel the discomfort away from his partner, yet he’s frozen stiff trying to remember it all, getting out what he knows, his lower lip trembles in thought as he catches his breath.  The youngest one leans in again, kissing at his cheek, slowly in little pecks as they trail back to the pair he’d just taken a moment before.  It was then the feeling started clicking what he should be doing; his lips bite against the other pair. The nibbling barely begun as Phichit keeps his own fingers clenching at the opposing shirt, trying to be closer somehow, despite how they were already pressed against each other.

 

As they grind against each other’s mouths, they adjust to get comfortable in the window, the youngest of them with his chest pushed against his friend’s, and it was the wrong thing to do.  Phichit grunts and pulls back, having pressed against his wound too harshly while contorting his bottom half to meld with his fellow kisser, and the noise was concerning, snapping them both back to reality.  He puts his hand over the dressing that aches, just enough to interrupt him and make him gasp sharply, “Phichit! Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

 

“No! No!  I…I just pressed on my stitches a bit hard…I’m okay…”  Lifting the bottom of the sweater, he looks to the gauze, still no blood stains, it was clean for now.  “Heh…. I didn’t want to stop, but I guess my stitches had a different plan for me…”

 

Chris looks relieved, glancing down at the dressing carefully in the moonlight beaming through the window, just making sure everything looked okay.  “Neither did I….”  His hazel eyes meet up with the pair of grey ones again, as they gaze lovingly with a glow of pink blushed on their cheeks.  “I see you’re going to make it hard for me to leave you for practice… After that, I’ll retire right now if you let me kiss you one more time~”

 

There’s a slight grimace on the young one’s face. “Oh, Chris…do those lines ever work?”

 

“You tell me~ You’re the one who gave me the kiss~”

 

Phichit giggles as he leans back against the window to let himself relax a moment, pulling his sleeved hands up to his face, fingers brushing against his lower lip, adoring the nervous tingle that lingers in the soft skin.  “Well…. I wanted to last night after dinner, I kind of…. I wanted to give you a foot rub and make sure you were relaxed because I knew you’d be really tired, but after I did so much, I mean… I’m still really sore!”  That made the giggles rise again between them.  “But…I kind of like this a lot better…”

 

Those bashful words mumbled their way into the Swiss man’s heart; all the blushing aside, he seems so confident.  “Oh… I’ll calm your nerves~” Chris leans forward over him, trying to be sultry and soft at the same time as he stops beside his ear, whispering with a hot breath, “ There will be many more, I assure~”  The way those words are uttered, they’re brushed against his skin still tingling, feeling goosebumps disturb the comfortable fabric that lay on his skin.  He turns his head to give a peck when the creaking of the hallway takes their attention.

 

Christophe sits back again to listen, making sure he’s hearing it properly, and he can recognize the weight of the steps being his coach, who enters groggily, but holding onto his usual backpack.  “Good morning, Chris…Are you al-…. Phichit! We were worried about you last night; how do you feel?”  He approaches, setting his bag down on the chair beside the window, turning on the light nearby it as he passes.  “You look red in the face.”

 

Phichit shakes his head, “I’m alright, I just got up to get some tea and Chris came to join me, I’m just enjoying his company.”  Chris smiles down to him and stands up, stepping away from the window quietly with a smirk on his face.  “Though I think I’m going to go lay down…. Maybe call my family.”

 

“Trust me.” The taller skater smiles, “They’ll be so happy to hear you again, and you’ll feel better when you do as well.”  HE pats his shoulder gently, then turns to Josef, tucking his hands into his pajama pants.  “Are you ready to go? I am whenever you are.”

 

His coach stifles a laugh, and there’s a giggle behind him as well as the three sit a moment, he gestures to his pants.  “Are you sure? JJ might give you troubles for being in your Swiss flag pants, though I don’t mind, it’s patriotic!”

 

Looking down, he has to chuckle at his own antics, shaking his head and striking a pose.  “Patriotism never looked so good, tell JJ it’s a blessing that he gets to see my ass representing Switzerland, see if he mistakes it for Sweden again~”

 

“I guess I know what my program next year will be: Thailand on ass on ice, the perfect theme.” The three start cackling as Phichit starts to stand up, leaning over to get his mug from the table and start shuffling to the kitchen to clean up his tea mess.

 

Christophe sighs and crosses his arms, starting to walk towards the basement door to go get dressed, it’s hard to tear his gaze away from the young man.  His coach takes notice and has to chuckle to himself, his dear student had it bad; he’ll have to give them some alone time tonight after practice, maybe give them a nudge in the right direction.  Little did he know; their lips had already nudged together this winter morning.

 

Curled up against his pillows, Phichit had his new cup of hot tea, his blankets pulled up to his chest, and the light beside him turned on so he can start a video chat with his family.  As soon as his laptop shows he’s online, he looks to see if anyone else is on, which is surprisingly quite a few people.  There’s some old neighbors from when he lived in Detroit, must be staying up late there.  There’s a few icons of friends in Thailand, five hours ahead of him in France, and he’s able to see a blue smiley face on a girl’s face, the one he was looking for.  His sister.  He clicks on the button to call her.  _“She’s probably going to freak out at me…. what if they’re mad I haven’t called them? Gosh, this must be what anxiety’s like for Yuuri all the time, how exhausting…”_

 

It doesn’t take long for a young woman’s face to pull up on the laptop, wearing dark blue scrubs, close to the screen as if waiting with burning anticipation.  She has matching dark grey eyes, lit up in the sunshine of what must be about 11:30 AM in Thailand.  “PHICHIT!” She screeches into the speaker, picking up the laptop and running with it out her door.  “Mom! Dad! Phichit is calling us!”

 

“Ah! Hey, Dao!” He chuckles, watching the screen show a shaky camera, the glimpses of his home and every little detail, even the ceiling lamp was nostalgic.  Dao was about two years older than him, but she was just as whimsical as she had been when they were kids, it made him happy to see that glimpse of her the moment he saw her.

 

Soon, the three loving faces are squeezed into the webcam view, a sight Phichit desperately needed to see, though he hadn’t realized how bad until now.  His father, hair greying as it was combed back on his head was the first to talk, “Phichit! We missed you! How do you feel?”

 

Next was his mother, who looks at every detail she can on the screen, he’s sure she’s trying to zoom in somehow.  “Chuchu! How are you? Do you have everything? Are you eating properly? Did you sleep?”

 

“H-Hey! Hey!”  He shakes his hands up to stop them from bombarding him with more questions, “One at a time! I’m really groggy!”  Resting back against the bedframe, they’re able to see how he’s set himself up with his tea and pillows.  “I’ve missed you guys a lot, I’m so sorry I didn’t call sooner, I’ve been asleep nonstop…”

 

“Oh, that’s normal!” Dao smirks, his Brainiac of a sister was just as smart as both parents combined, and loved to show it through her expertise of medical knowledge.  “You’ll be less sleepy in a few days, but when you first have that surgery, it’s sleep city for like a week straight!  You’re about four or five days in, so it should be getting better!”  He’s not so sure about that, he’s exhausted still.  “When do you get cleared for flying, do you know?”

 

“I’m exhausted from doing anything, I haven’t even called my doctor…Though scheduling some sort of checkup isn’t a bad idea.  I’ll do that later today with Chris, maybe he’ll translate for me. Thanks to him, Ciao-Ciao, and Coach Karpisek, I’m not totally helpless!

 

His father chimes in again, “And your friend is very kind to put you up, son, you make sure to tell him how grateful you are, should we send a basket or something?”

 

“Christophe and his Coach know how grateful we are, but I’ll pass on the gratuity from you guys as well, I just ask that you guys cheer for him instead on this next competition…. I just wish I could have brought you guys a gold medal.  I was sure this year would be it…”  The disappointment in his voice quiets down, his already tired face looks worn to pieces just from thinking about it.

 

There’s a motherly gasp that makes him look up, “Chuchu.”  His mom frowns, worried for him and ready to lecture.  “You shouldn’t worry about us right now, that won’t get you healed any faster.  You fell on the ice, you had to get surgery, and no amount of gold medals is going to be more important than your health in the future, got it?”  He takes a deep breath and nods.  “You have brought Thailand more pride than anyone who has ever lived here, and we’re proud of you enough for the whole country to recognize it!”

 

Dao nods and smiles, “You’ve gotten the ice rink so much business, and everyone’s wanting to be like you!  Posters everywhere!”

 

That was adorable to think about, he can especially imagine what it will be like someday with his Ice Show idea when he can organize it, and it makes him chuckle a little. “I knew it was going to be a good idea to call you guys… Christophe convinced me to finally face you guys after all the drama happened.”

 

His sister winks at the camera, “Such a nice friend, you haven’t left his side except when he practices, at least from what I hear!”  Her brother pouts at her, blushing quite a bit as he rolls his eyes.  “Oh? You’re awfully quiet suddenly.

 

There was no shame in it, Phichit had come out to his family when he was a teen, and they were ultimately supportive the whole way, but that didn’t help him when they taunted, as it seemed they wanted to set him up with every eligible young gentleman who passed their house.  “Who is this, Chuchu?  That one man who was at the hospital with you?”  Her face suddenly takes up the camera, “Introduce us! Where is he? I need to ask him some question!”

 

Phichit groans, rubbing the bridge of his nose with two fingers, he remembered why talking about some fellow skaters was a red flag now, his mother was way too excitable.  “Guys! Calm down, Chris isn’t even here, he’s practicing at the rink right now, and I’m not just-“

 

“Phichit?” Chris’ voice fills up the background air as he rushes in, just barely buttoning up his shirt as he wants to say goodbye.  “Hey! I’m glad I caught you before you fell asleep, Chaton~”

 

“Uh, Chris, I…”

 

He approaches and takes the young boy’s chin with his finger and thumb, lifting his face up for a kiss, one that was as quick as it was deep and adoring.  Dao’s face on the screen looked so scandalous, and it’s really where the resemblance of the siblings can truly be enjoyed. 

When Chris pulls away, he lets go of his chin and giggles a bit, “I thought since you initiated earlier, I should too~ So cute when you blush like that, Chaton~”

 

Phichit has a look of dread and his partner looks him up and down, not hearing a sly comment to return back at him, just a female voice starting a round of, “OOOHHHHHHHH” coming from the laptop.  He looks down, the three faces all different as Dao is rolling in the corner of the screen laughing, and the two parents have different versions of the same kind of shock plastered on their blushing cheeks. 

 

_“Oh fuck, he’s going to make a run for it, way to go Phichit, you’ve scared away another one.”_

 

“Oh! I’m so excited to meet you all!” _what?_   “You must be the Chulanonts!”  The swiss man gives a charming smile, turning the laptop a bit to get a better look at everyone, “I’m Christophe Giacometti!  I’ve been taking care of Phichit these past few days!”

 

_“…. How in god’s green earth are you not absolutely embarrassed by this?”_

 

The Thai family waves back slowly, his father’s other hand covers his face, but it’s clear with his shoulders bouncing he’s joining in with his daughter’s laughter in the situation.   Phichit clears his throat, “Ah! Yes, my mother, Arisara, my father, Pawaret, and my sister, Dao.”

 

“I can see the family resemblance already, you’re a spitting image of your mother!  But your hair looks like you got it from your father! How funny is that?” Internally, Christophe could feel his ribcage rattle with nerves at this, he’d just kissed the Thai man while he was on a live camera.  What if that was press? What if he wasn’t out with his family quite yet? Judging by the only slight nervous shake in his voice, it seemed like everything was safe for now on the subject.

 

His dad bows his head politely, “Hello! Hello! Er…. How did you two meet?”

 

“They’re both skaters, Dad, they’re always in competitions with each other.” Dao answers before either one of the skaters can really say anything.

 

Arisara gasps, her wide open jaw was finally doing something else.  “And how long as this flame been burning? Phichit, have you been hiding an entire relationship from us?”

 

The young man sighs and shakes his head, “Mom, this is very recent, and I beg that you guys let me figure out what all of this is before I can answer anything on that, alright? I mean…. We only started talking about that stuff this morning.”

 

Christophe smirks at him, noticing how blushed he looks as his family is behaving… well, like family does.  “Well, how about this, him and I can talk about it when I get done with practice tonight, and then he’ll call you again and tell you all about it!”

 

Noticing the talk is turning into a form of goodbye, Phichit looks a little bit relieved as he lays back a bit on his pillows, going back to the screen.  “That would be best…I’m very tired.”

 

_“Ah, yes, that will certainly help end the call, good thinking Phichit!”_   As he looks to his patient, Chris frowns, something seems a little off at the tone, perhaps his patient is dizzy again from the medications, or feeling phantom pains as one usually would.  “Lovely meeting you all! Goodbye then!”  After a few calls of goodbye from the screen, the laptop is shut.

 

The computer turns off and Phichit sighs, shaking his head and chuckling, scooting a bit under the covers to lower down, “I tried to warn you…but you must have been too eager to resist me~”

 

“yes, it’s very clear you’re irresistible~ And tired for real, I can tell.”  He sets the laptop down on a nearby dresser and pulls up the blanket a bit on his chest.  “Did you take your medicine yet?”

 

“No… I’m okay, I’m just going to wait a bit before I take anything, wait it out…I don’t want to become dependent on those pills.”

 

Though Chris would argue that, his friend was going to sleep, and maybe it would do him some good to take the dose later and wean himself off it.  Phichit lays his head onto the middle of the pillow, ears disappearing in it as he lays on his back.  “Now, you have practice to go to…stop trying to get more kisses and do your job.” He jokes, smiling before he pulled the comforter up to his chin.

 

“You caught me~” Leaning down, he pecks the exposed forehead and turns to get the light.  “I’ll see you tonight, don’t hesitate to call when you wake up, okay?”

 

Phichit nods and smiles, blushing beneath the warmth of his bedding and waving goodbye, watching the blond man take his leave with a matching pink face hidden in his stubble.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chris looks different today, he’s less sexual, but he’s determined and his accuracy is deadly, he’s in an entirely different world.  Coach Karpisek can tell something is on his mind, and he guesses it’s the person that made them a few minutes late this morning, he couldn’t be happier.  Perhaps he could nudge his student in the right direction, but if he’s found out, there could be some resistance.  He’ll have to recruit his coach guest.  “Nice combination, Chris!” He calls. “I need to make a phone call, afterwards we can go for lunch!”  He pulls out his phone to call up Coach Celestino’s number, stepping into an alcove

 

The Swiss skater draws along the rink, barely acknowledging his coach, he’s in deep meditation of what to say tonight as he didn’t expect to get this far. _“Now…what exactly am I looking for? I haven’t been in a committed relationship since over a year ago, and that only lasted a few months…I’d adore more than that, I think I’m ready for a good long relationship… But does he want that?”_

 

Surely that kiss suggested it, if he wanted a fling, there would be that feeling of it, like it were a one night stand kiss with nothing behind it.  The kind of kiss that was there to pitch tents and get the job done, this was so much different.

 

Phichit’s kiss was loving, like it was meant to awaken a cursed lover from slumber, to break a spell; so pure in its soft desire that there was a world of wonder behind it.  The way he leaned up to give it was so spine shudderingly overwhelming, how his words were stopped with the simple motion of pressing together.  Just thinking about it, Chris had the urge to go home on lunch break, skipping eating, and have an hour of kissing.

 

“We should let them figure it out, how are they supposed to get closer if we taunt them the way we do, Celestino?”  It was the first arrangement of words Chris could put together in a sentence to understand as he hears Coach Karpisek on the phone in the nearby alcove.  “You know, you’re way more obvious about wanting them to date than you think, nobody just happens to leave romantic movies within eyesight when they’re cuddling.”

 

Oh, that’s adorable, their coaches were arguing on efficient ways to set their students up, and from the tone he can tell Josef is trying to be sneaky about it.  He must think he isn’t heard in the hallway.  It gives him such a smug feeling, realizing nobody else knew about the kiss except Phichit’s family and the two…... _Lovers_.  It felt good to think of being someone’s lover.

 

The rest of the world was pulled into view when an arm was thrown around his shoulders and a voice nearly busted his eardrum.  “Hey! Christophe!” JJ smirks, rocking him side to side playfully.  Day by day, Christophe minds it a little less, as it’s better not to be in constant annoyance for the sake of keeping his heart healthy.  “Are you excited to get to China in a few days?”

 

“I’m excited that you’re going to be in China in a few days.  I’m waiting until Phichit’s doctor clears him for flying.”  The Swiss man moves forward to get out from under one of the arms that wrapped his shoulders, skating in front of him and gliding a bit. 

 

JJ looks genuinely confused. “… Aren’t you afraid of getting disqualified?”

 

“Excuse me?”  He turns around, skating backwards a moment. 

 

It’s not that normal asshole face Chris expects; he looks as though he’s grimacing at him and his decision.  “But all skaters are required to check in prior, there’s a time limit for you to show up.”  He can’t tell if he’s kidding or not, it’s harder to read him when he’s trying to take the black-haired kid seriously.  “….Do you want me to show you in the handbook?”

 

“Please.”

 

Chris had always traveled to the destination way ahead of time to avoid flight troubles, crowds at the hotels, and the get extra practice time in the competition rink, it would make sense that he would never have seen problems with time restrictions.  As soon as JJ pulled the International GPF rule book out to show him, he felt a sense of dread as the lines were clear.  For the sake of health, training, and well-being, all eligible competitors were required to be at their location a minimum of five days before the event.  “… This can’t be right, how? There’s no way Phichit will be cleared to fly in four days.”

 

“Sooner than that, Christophe.”  JJ chuckles, looking at the book beside him.  “It’s an eleven-hour flight from here to there, and that’s if you can book a one-way ticket.  With the way it is right now, right after competition has started flocking there, neither one of us is bound to get a one way ticket without selling some serious merchandise to those who have the actual tickets.” 

 

“This isn’t helpful, JJ.  In fact, it’s really annoying that you’re laughing at this situation.”  It was good that Chris had a reminder, this man is his rival in this situation, not his friend.

 

“Maybe you can leave to compete, and when he gets cleared to leave, he can follow after in a few days.  Maybe he’ll arrive after, but he’ll get there.”  The Swiss man is unsure why he wants to help, or pretend to so badly.

 

“Neither Celestino nor Phichit speak French, if something happened, they would be helpless.”

 

“Maybe you should switch coaches, Karpisek speaks French, right? Or maybe one of my parents would be willing to help, we’re all fluent except for your little houseguests!”

 

_“Maybe you should shut the fuck up, you fucking radish.”_   Chris almost feels protective over his role as caretaker for Phichit, he doesn’t want to share with anyone and pass his friend off like he is just a pet who needs a sitter.  “I need to talk to him tonight, I’ll figure out a plan.”

 

He takes a deep breath and crosses his arms, starting to skate away to pander.  If he had to, for Phichit, he would disqualify himself from his shot at gold medal; he couldn’t put that man in danger like that.  Pulling his phone out, he starts dialing up the doctor’s number, having saved it from the hospital a few days earlier.  “Hello! Doctor D’Rouge? I’m calling to set up an appointment.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I asked for some help from friends on how to make the story just a bit more dramatic and everyone said they wanted Chris to get hit by a bus, and tell you what, I'm not into that. So instead have some GPF drama with rules I randomly made up
> 
> Also "Shut the fuck up you fucking radish" is my new favorite insult


	7. Learning little things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The way those eyes pull at him, Chris is hypnotized by such an expression of bedroom eyes, and he gulps. Yet that’s not enough to render him baffled, he’s the god of sexuality on the ice, to let a simple glance take him down would be disappointing. “Good~” He smirks. “Did you want me to stop~?”

 

“Phichit….” The room filled with barely a glow is accompanied by a quiet voice, Phichit’s not sure if he heard his name at all, and takes a deep breath.  He’s unsure if he’s truly slept as he lays in his bed, in and out of vivid thoughts.  “Phichit, are you alright?”  Once the second call is heard, his grey eyes unglued, realizing that’s his name.

 

“Hm? Chris?”  He blinks a few times, sitting up gently to meet with that blond-haired man, smiling to him and holding his hand up, rubbing his face.

 

“Careful, remember, you have a giant hole in your side.”  He snickers, making sure he gives him some room to sit up.

 

“Gosh…”  He yawns, rubbing his face, “Why haven’t you left for practice yet? Coach Karpisek is going to be mad!”

 

The study face changes expressions from happy to see his cute face, to a little concerned. “… Phichit, it’s 5PM; have you been asleep the whole day?”  To him, that wasn’t a very good sign, and this conversation felt more tense already.

 

“Whew…. I guess so!  I thought I’d be sleeping better on the medicine, but wow, I proved myself wrong.” He does seem quite awake, and very happy to see Chris, like a puppy who’s greeting another one excitedly.  “That was well needed.”

 

The relieved smile makes Phichit feel better.  “You must be hungry, all you had was some tea a little under twelve hours ago!”

 

“Ugh…yes, you have no idea.”  Just as he answers, his stomach growls to the point where Chris even starts snickering, “I have a beast in my gut apparently, maybe I should have told the doctor that.”  He smiles, he loves hearing that laugh.  Ever since that kiss, he’s nearly a child with a crush when it comes to seeing a smile or hearing a laugh, especially when it comes to the Swiss man.

 

He starts climbing out of bed and walks over to the bathroom to see how he looks, running his fingers through his hair from his shower this morning before he had sat on the windowsill.  “Are you dolling up for me, Chaton~?”  He smiles right back and adjusts his sweater, shaking his head as he just makes himself a bit more presentable.

 

It just occurs to the Thai man how quiet it seems in the condo.  “Hey, where is everyone else?”

 

Leading him out of the room, he sighs with a hint of humor in his voice.  “They’re trying to play matchmaker with us, so they left to go ‘run errands’ in town, give us some alone time.  I overheard Josef talking about it this morning, isn’t that adorable?”

 

Phichit starts giggling at that, shuffling behind him with a gentle stretch of his arms.  “They’re so naïve, we should toy with that.”

 

In the kitchen, it seems like Chris had already started cooking, making more broth for him and this time with noodles that gently swam in the hot pan.  “Oh, by the way…. I called your doctor today, she said you can start having little bits of solid food, but at a slow pace… And to keep it soft.  Noodles will probably feel wonderful after drinking smoothies and soup for the past five or six days.”

 

He didn’t expect the look on the Thai skater’s face to look as overjoyed as it did, but he’s sure there will be tears of happiness.  “Chris! Thank you! I was going to call you and ask if we should follow up with her… Did she say anything else?” Turning, he carefully pulls out two bowls from the cabinet, knowing his caretaker will be watching him with eyes of a hawk for any signs of pain.

 

“Yes, you have an appointment tomorrow afternoon.”  He takes the bowls and fills them, taking them to the table.  “Also, you should take your pain meds now, since you went a whole day without them.”  Phichit nods and goes to the living room where he left them, soon returning with the bottle.  Though he looks reluctant to take them.  “…. I know, you don’t like the side effects, but they’re there to help.”

 

“Yeah…. I just don’t like feeling so dependent on them, and so dizzy!”  They sit beside each other at the round dining table, the youngest hums as he drinks in the broth, feeling the warmth creep through his body.  It was like a liquid cure for bad feelings, making him smile as he takes out his pills to have with it.  “Ah… I wish I hadn’t slept all day.  I really wanted to think about what to say for this talk…”  Chris glances up from his bowl, listening as he talks.  “Though…I suppose I only have a few questions…. Did you like the kiss?”

 

Such an innocent inquiry, and Chris smiles, long eyelashes batting at him.  “I adored it, I would have to be crazy not to.”

 

There’s a pause for bashful expressions and a bit of giggling.  “Good… secondly, I know…. Some kisses don’t always mean relationships…. Did you…Well… er…”  Suddenly he’s starting to feel like Yuuri, unable to talk due to nerves, this must be what it’s like to talk to Victor sometimes.

 

Goodness, he looks nervous, though Chris knows it’s not fair to the boy, he didn’t have as much time to think of this talk as his friend did.  “Phichit?”  He interrupts, glad to take the pressure off him to speak.  “You seem very nervous about all of this, did you want to think about it before we talk more?”

 

“Ah! No, I want to talk about it! I just have to gather my thoughts.”

 

“I think I know what you’re meaning to say.”  There’s a gentle smirk on his face, and he reaches over to take his hand.  “If it’s alright with you, I’d like to make it official by asking you on a date, one for tomorrow night~”

 

The proposal is a sudden one, straightforward against the air that was so nerve wracking before.  His response is a blushing grin, and her looks down at their hands that have taken to each other in a soft clasp, he nods a bit.  “I knew you couldn’t resist to be the one to ask first~”

 

“It’s only fair, you kissed me first~”

 

“It’s my turn again, so get over here~” Phichit leans over, trying to reach his tall new lover’s lips, and luckily he leans in as well, they hummed with mouths curled at the corners, trying not to interrupt this kiss with smiles and chuckles.  It’s short, as twisting towards each other to kiss could be uncomfortable. 

Chris sips down the last of his noodles and stands up.  “Did you want more soup? I can make more if you’re still hungry.”

 

“Nah, I’ve got a small appetite! Though I wish I could eat more without getting an upset stomach.”  He lifts the bowl and drinks up the rest of the broth, precious as he is, he must have needed the food.  “Seriously, how do you cook so well?”

 

Chris takes the empty dishes to the sink to rinse them.  “My father owns a restaurant back in Switzerland, and even though I had my sights set on skating, he wanted me to learn how to cook to take care of myself when I’m away; it’s saved me a few times.”  He then starts loading the dishwasher, finally full enough to start.  “I’m glad you’re smitten with my culinary expertise~”

 

“I don’t hear you talk about your family as I’ve seemed to talk about mine.  Do you mind me asking why?”  Phichit stands up, scooting the chairs in with his hip.

 

With a shrug, the Swiss answers, “I don’t mind at all, and I don’t talk to them as often as I’d like to due to time differences.  My brother used to travel with me when we were younger, but he took over the restaurant so my parents could retire.  I plan on traveling with them as soon as I retire, said I get to choose the destination as a celebration of where we could go.”

 

Phichit smiles, listening to him talk was so informative, not knowing anything just a moment before and explaining so much about the young man.  “And what does your mother do?”

 

“A teacher!”  He answers with a smile, “I still remember how she used to grade all her papers at the ice rink on the benches while I took skating lessons.”  Oh, how heartwarming, Phichit sits down on the couch to listen to him.  “We’d go to school, and after, I’d wait for her to get done with her meetings, and then she would drive me to practice and then my dad would bring us dinner.  We barely ever used our dining room table, just always did that.”

 

“That sounds so sweet, how old were you when you started competing?”  He hugs a pillow and looks up to him as he’s joined. 

 

A new face looks like it’s appeared, one expression Phichit hasn’t seen before, almost nostalgic.  “As soon as I was allowed at thirteen, the moment I won a competition and placed on the podium, my family suddenly realized how serious it was.  We had to talk about a lot of things, who would take time off from work to take me to competitions, and my instructor… Well, soon became my coach!  Coach Karpisek and I have known each other ever since.”

 

The smile on Phichit’s face is glowing, watching him talk was nice, as the man usually stays relatively quiet during competitions and on social media.  This entire trip of theirs was so informative, and he’s already feeling his heart skip a few beats when he hears gentle words about it all.  “And…. I just have another question… Do they know you’re not straight? I mean…just for future reference if our first date goes well.”

 

“Oh Chaton~ Already hoping to meet the parents?”  He giggles to him tauntingly.  “They raised us to be open.  I’ve never come out to them, but I’ve brought home men and women before, and they never treat us any differently because of it.”

 

Phichit nods, understanding how it must be in that family must be so different than when he came out.  “Heh… My father was understanding of it, but I can tell he gets nervous about the whole gay thing.  I’ve never brought any women home, but if I did, I think he’d treat them a bit differently.”

 

“Ah, ever brought any lovers home to meet them?”

 

Shaking his head, he starts feeling a buzz of dizziness between his temples.  “Nah, I’ve never been in a long enough relationship to do so.  When Yuuri and I first met, I was dating some guy, and he wasn’t the nicest…”

 

Christophe almost feels protective of a past lover, and he tilts his head to question it.  “Oh? Would you care to elaborate?”  There’s a gentle huff and a bit of a grumble as he adjusted, seeming uncomfortable.  “You don’t have to, if you don’t feel like it.  Last thing I would want to do is to force you to speak about something you’re not ready to talk about.”

 

“Maybe not tonight, okay?  Not that anything’s bad about it, just… Well, I’m enjoying spending so much time with you while I’m awake, I don’t want to spoil it because of a bad memory.”  He puts on his best smile, and Christophe melts, willing to wait until later to ask about it.

 

“I suppose it’s a good thing you’re so smitten with me~”

 

That lightened the air a bit, and he’s already chuckling at it.  “Well, if we’re being completely honest, I’ve been smitten with you for a while.  I can’t remember when it started, but it was hard not to get really excited when we texted each other.”

 

“…Oh my goodness, you’re adorable.”  Chris laughs at the pout he receives back from that, and he gently nudges him with his foot as he leans on the other side of the couch, playfully of course.  “Oh come now~ No reason to be shy~ You’re not the first to fall deeply in love with me through Giacometti powered words~”  Though there’s joking between them, there’s a lingering pressure Chris wants to discuss, and it soured his happy mood little by little.

 

Phichit is still laughing, shaking his head and plopping his head back against a pillow, then poking back with his own foot to Chris’s side lightheartedly.  He takes one of the feet that’s poking him from the Swiss man, and starts rubbing his feet very gently, as was the plan the night before.  “Ooh~ Phichit~” Chris sighs.  Phichit knew the face he had on, one that matches the face skaters put on for press to show they’re calm, cool, and collected beside the rink.  “You look troubled.” The skater frowns, looking at the older one who blinks at his ability to pinpoint that discussion that was sitting in his brain.  “Is everything alright?”

 

“No trouble here~” He groans, his skates must have been brutal to him today, no other explanation to why this felt so good.

 

“No, no, you were thinking about something.  Come on, tell me.”  With a tug of his toes, they pop a bit, making the tall party shudder.  “Communication is sexy, out with it!”

 

Chris laughs, looking up from his relaxed state to raise an eyebrow at the quirky boy, so outgoing in his ways of talking.  “Communication is sexy? Is that so?”

 

“Yes, super sexy, nothing gets me all geared up like a good ol’ fashion communication.”  He can’t keep a straight face, he’s too silly tonight.  “Talk to me straight; taxes, the rising population problem, the gay agenda, something!”

 

Chuckling louder, he pulls his legs up and away from the short skater as he brings them up to his chest.  “Phichit, taxes are causing gay population rises.”

 

“I knew it! My taxes made me gay!”

 

“At last! Confirmation!”  Phichit starts giggling again, picking up his water bottle and getting cozy on the armrest of the couch. “Alright, alright, in all seriousness… I do have something I want to talk to you about.”  Chris turns to face him, “I found out today I need to be leaving a few days sooner than I had expected.”  The Thai man blinks, sitting up gently and then tucking his water bottle between him and the table. “In the rulebook, for the skater’s wellbeing and health, they require I be there at least five days before the competition.”

 

“Yes? I thought that was regulation for any competition besides block championships.”  Phichit blinks, the dizziness wavers his concentration slightly as he moves about to get in a comfortable position; his least favorite side effect was at large again.

 

“Well… You haven’t been cleared for flying, nor will you for another week, especially having the open surgery like you had!” He explains.  “My friend, the one who owns this condo, I’m sure isn’t going to let you stay here without me being here… And because I worry about you being in an emergency situation without a translator… I’m….”  As the words spill out, Chris can feel his own heart breaking, “Considering…. not to go to China.”

 

“WHAT?” He sits up, almost feeling his side tense up in an ache, frowning as he ignored it.  “Chris! You can’t do that! I won’t let you pass up your last competition just to watch me sleep for five extra days!”  Phichit is almost angry at the thought.  “I haven’t had any problems, no emergencies, nothing but being tired and drinking things that make me even more tired! You can leave me here to compete!  Celestino and I can rent another hotel room or some other place!”

 

Chris had expected the conversation would turn this way, and he nods in understanding, but he’d been thinking about this all-day long.  “I could, Phichit. But I would never forgive myself for doing that to you; I’m not expecting to win gold, nor do I think of staying as any hindrance.  The reality is, I took on responsibility to make sure you’re alright, and I care more about your health than I do some hunk of metal hanging off a ribbon.”

 

Thinking quickly, Phichit lifts the bottom of his shirt, pulling gently on the medical tape.  “Look, I need to show you.  I’m healing faster than you know.”

 

“Phichit! Be careful!”

 

As the tape starts to come off, it’s a different sight than it was almost a week ago post-surgery, as all that seems to be there is the stitches with little to no irritation, it looks like it’s healing quite well.  “See? The cut is closed, it’s just the stitches left, and I barely felt any pain when I didn’t take my medicine today!”

 

Chris is amazed at how different it looked, even with the little black wires that were holding his skin together, and now just seemed like dramatic decoration for a Halloween costume.  “… Are you sure, Phichit?”  He didn’t know enough about medical regulatory healing processes to dispute this, but he had heard in the past how athletic people seemed to heal differently.  “I’m not sure about this, how do I know this will be okay?”

 

The Thai man sighs, putting the tape back on carefully and putting his sweater down.  “Tomorrow!  My appointment, I’ll talk to the doctor and get confirmation of it, okay?”

 

Finally, the two seemed to agree on something, and Chris smiles at that, “You know, you’re onto something when you say communication is sexy~” He scoots forward to get closer to his patient, knowing now his wound is feeling much better than before. 

 

“Yeah~?” Phichit gently tugs on his shirt to guide him over, Chris was nearly on top of him, smirking down to his new lover. “Want me to start talking about gay taxation again?”

 

“For the love of god, no.”  He buries his face into the smaller one’s shirt, trying to stifle his laughter.  “I was going to kiss you, but maybe I _will_ leave you in France for ruining the nice romantic moment.”

 

“Too late! You said we’re official!”  Phichit hugs him, even wrapping his legs around his hips for the silly effect, knowing Chris’ smile is bigger than before as he laughs into his shirt, trying not to slip and squish him. 

 

There is one way he can fight back, however; it all starts with one peck against Phichit’s collar, which makes him squeak, and it leads to another, and another, and what feels like hundreds of small kisses all over him, for the pure sake of making him laugh.  Trailing then across his cheeks, on his nose, on his round jawline, and over his ears.  The giggles were like music, and it was hard not to join in as he kept kissing.  “Ch-Chris! Stop! I can’t handle ear kisses!” He squeals, wiggling as the kisses halt.

 

Chris looks down to him, needing to catch his breath; seeing the opportunity, his partner’s hands fly up to cover his tan cheeks seemingly dyed pink.  “Oh, he’s shy again~” The Swiss chuckles, leaning down to whisper in his ear.  “Wouldn’t be so shy if you knew what else these lips can do~”

 

Phichit could feel his soul leaving his body at this point, but he peeks through his fingers up to the cheeky man on top.  “Chriiiiiiissss…..” He mumbles behind his fingers, pulling them down, his lips in a plump pout as his hands gently frame his face.  “You’re teasing me~” Legs still wrapped around Chris’ hips, he wiggles a bit playfully to pull away, scooting to sit up.

 

The way those eyes pull at him, Chris is hypnotized by such an expression of bedroom eyes, and he gulps.  Yet that’s not enough to render him baffled, he’s the god of sexuality on the ice, to let a simple glance take him down would be disappointing. “Good~” He smirks.  “Did you want me to stop~?”

 

Phichit nods gently.  “For now…I mean, I’m not entirely comfortable with too much before our first date.  Is that okay?”

 

“Of course, Chaton~ Do you want me to put in a movie instead?” He sits up, giving some space to his dear, and adjusting his round glasses.

 

His lover nods a bit, glad to see even with the skating world’s sex god, no still means no, as it should be. “Thank you, Chris.”

 

The Swiss man smiles, glad to see how thankful the Thai man is for him understanding, and he stands to go to the movie cabinet.  _“Thanks for what?  For stopping when he asked?_ ” He shrugs it off as he looks through the French movies, humming.  He finds a Christmas movie, turning his head to glance with a smile.  “I’m glad you’re comfortable, don’t be afraid to tell me no, alright?”

 

Phichit smiles and agrees with the bow of his head.  “Not everyone believes that, so it’s appreciated…”

 

“Well, they should.”  He returns to the couch, sitting beside his patient and wrapping his arm around the smaller one’s shoulders.  “Hey… I know this was a very big day, but do you think we should keep this… scandalous affair… a secret by any means?”

 

Phichit pulls his phone out and shrugs, “Well, if you want us to, I’m fine with it.  But I really do prefer relationships to be out in the open without having to worry about anyone else outing us when we aren’t ready… If that’s okay with you.”

 

Quite the relief, Chris finds surprised in himself for wanting that answer to be that way, and he shrugs casually.  “Well, if I’m going to be someone’s boyfriend, I’d love to be able to tell the world that.  After all, how else am I going to keep the other sex gods from trying to seduce you, my dear Persephone~?”

 

The young skater smirks, something about being compared to the queen of hell made him feel quite powerful, and he bites his lip, “Perhaps we post something online?”

 

Chris hesitates, and he pulls out his own phone to get the camera opened as a mirror, he runs his fingers through his curls and smirks.  “I look just fine; did you want to do some fixing up before we take a picture?”  Holding the camera over, Phichit seem to pull some eyeliner out of nowhere. “…. where was that?”

 

“Never mind that, my sweater is magic or something.” He mumbles as he starts fixing his makeup properly for the pictures.  His new lover just chuckles and rolls his eyes, watching how he carefully applies wings with unshaken hands, very tiny and subtle, but enough to accentuate how beautiful his grey eyes were. “Okay! I got it! What should we do?”

 

“How about a kiss~?”  It seems the Swiss man has been aching for one, and he leans in, nose to nose with his lover and smiles with eyelashes batting.  “Nothing more obvious than that~”

 

He gets it immediately, understanding they hadn’t done any other cuddly smooches since this morning, and Phichit gets his phone out and ready for their mini photoshoot.  “Fine~ if you really insist~”

 

After about a half hour of going through which of the twenty pictures to post, filtering it, getting the angles just right, and putting a little sparkle into the photo, it’s posted on Phichit’s page.

 

**_@Phichit-chu: A lot of good things happened today <3 <3 <3 <3 #notsingleanymore  #giacomettikisses  #GoSwitzerland _ **


	8. City of Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chris gets to see him light up, and it’s more than wonderful. The young man deserved this joy, and it almost ached to not have been able to provide it until now. He gazed at him with gentle hazel eyes, humming as he admired how happiness looked even more beautiful on this man. “You said you haven’t been to France before, and you didn’t get to tour it before your surgery, so this was the best thing I could think of.”

 

 

The day of his appointment, Phichit was sitting in the waiting room, fiddling with his phone, having looked at his dressing a dozen times and searched time limits of flying after major surgery.  It hit him somewhere around midnight while snuggled against Chris that he wanted to make sure his final year was the best year, and he’s been worried ever since.  Every search seemed to come back to a minimum of two weeks, some even said a full month.  His research had even gone to other modes of transportation: train ride all the way to Beijing would take between sixteen days to a month without stops, and a car ride was around the same.

 

Coach Celestino notices how frazzled he is, wishing his magical coach words could take care of this situation, yet he didn’t ever have the opportunity to see Phichit in panic; that was more of a Yuuri thin.  It was a rare incident the Thai skater would really seem anything other than outgoingly determined to live life to the fullest with minimum worry.

 

“Chulanont?” Calls a voice, one that he recognizes luckily.  It’s the nurse that speaks English he spoke to before, along with another woman in a coat.  “Ah! Good to see you again!”

 

“Hey there! I…. I’m sorry, I didn’t get your name before.”

 

“Not a problem! Nurse Edith, this is the surgeon who performed on you, Dr. D’rouge.”  She introduces, the woman speaks some words in French, then looks to Edith to translate.  “She wants to know if you took your medicine this morning for the examination.”

 

“Yes, I did. At nine.”  It’s spoken back in the beautiful language, one that Phichit still doesn’t know anything about.  About to follow the two, he stops and turns to his coach, who’s ready to walk after them.  “Er… Ciao-Ciao?  I kind of want to go in by myself, I have some personal….”

 

“Oh! No need to explain, go do what you need to do, Phichit.  I’ll wait out here.”  He smiles, understanding Phichit was an adult with a private life, despite documenting everything he’s ever done online.

 

An appreciated nod later, Phichit follows the medical experts, in a much different situation, yet almost as scared as he was last week.  The room he walks into is almost childlike and calming, and there’s a tall seat that looks like it reclines like a dentist’s chair meant for him.  The taller woman speaks while facing the nurse, who then turns to him.  “How are you feeling? You look much better than Sunday!”

 

“Oh, I feel great!” He answers truthfully and crosses the room to sit down on the reclining chair.  “My medicine makes me tired, but other than that, I almost feel like I could run a marathon!”

 

During the translation, the doctor’s face goes a bit pale and she speaks a bit frantically.  “Don’t do that!” Edith mirrors, playfully chuckling, “You may feel up to it, but in reality, your body is still as vulnerable as it was when you first came in.”

 

Phichit blinks, “Really? But… Am I getting the stitches out today? How do I know it’s not too early for that?”

 

The doctor gestures for him to sit back on the seat, as he does so, it starts moving back for him to lay down as she speaks again, he awaits Edith’s translation.  “We’ll see that you’re healing well, if they’re not doing well today, we will remove them in a few days, maybe a week.”

 

He couldn’t let that happen, and with a gulp, he goes over everything he has done this past week that could change this outcome, but it wouldn’t make any difference in this.  He clenched his eyelids shut, bit his bottom lip until he’s sure it would bleed, laying back to let her see his stitches.

 

Nurse Edith pulls up the bottom of the sweater, then starts pulling the gauze taped to his right side on the abdomen.  The Doctor’s fingers press around the wound and looks for a reaction, the intense feeling in his gut was the most pain he could feel, in fact.  “Does it hurt when we push on it?”

 

“Well….”  He’s surprised, feeling that wound so well adjusted to the pressure.  “The stitches are poking me… but it feels fine!”  A pleasant feeling, Phichit looks more relaxed and much happier.  “Can you take them out today? Please?”

 

“Well, if they’re comfortable, then we can!”  She answers, smiling as she hands the doctor some tweezers and small scissors out from her side cart.  “Is there anything you’re confused about?”

 

The tug of his skin as she pulled the wirey bits form his once exposed flesh was an awful sensation that made him want to squirm at the thought, but thanks to the painkillers, he can barely feel any pain.  “Ah! Well… am I okay to start moving around? Can I leave?”

 

“Oui! Yes! It’s good for you!” She nods.  “Doctor and I find athletes heal differently, maybe they care for their bodies so differently.”  It made him smile to finally feel one step closer to being back on the ice.

 

“Well, my friends are taking care of me! Any instructions before I make my trip?”

 

The nurse looks a bit confused, trying to translate everything in her head before speaking, then turns to  the doctor to ask if there’s anything else while she cleans up.  “Sleep and liquid diet! Just as instructed over the phone.  Take it easy, nothing spicy!”

 

With a nod, he watches as the gauze is replaced with a clean sheet and some tape.  “Great! I’ll be sure to do that!”

 

After signing his papers, he starts out to the waiting room, eager to greet Celestino.

 

 

 

 

Chris is at the rink, going over his refined program, there was a heavy weight on top his lungs that contemplated how Phichit was doing at his appointment.  Did he even need to be practicing?  For all he knew, he had performed his last program, and he didn’t get the chance to be on the podium to hold a medal.  How bittersweet his mind had become in the gross of all this drama, how he wanted to just have it all happen without fault, and then he could relax with his new boyfriend.  If only his worry could be restricted to what time dinner reservations were, rather than his entire career slipping away without notice, and with the health of this lover at stake.

 

After a thorough talk about what would happen if Phichit was not given clearance to fly, Coach Josef Karpisek was disappointed, but knew his student could make these decisions on his own.  The pressure in the echoing rink was almost unbearable, even JJ could be ignored to a better level today due to the pending news.

 

Isabella had shown up to give her husband lunch, her winter coat unable to cover up the baby bump sporting out from beneath her scarf, and she leans over to JJ on the other side of the rink as she watched the Swiss man going over arm motions.  “JJ, sweetheart, maybe you should offer him some.  He looks troubled.”

 

The Canadian skater looks up, watching the lackluster difference from yesterday’s fervent performance, and he shrugs, turning to get the second box of food and starting to trail on over.  “Chris! Buddy!”

 

_“Great.”_   He sighs, turning around with his back straightened, his head held high confidently as he usually would near others.  “What is it, Leroy?”

 

“The wife has some extra food, why don’t you eat with us? It’s just bread and cheese, nothing fancy!”  He holds up the box, and Chris looks down to it, unsure if throwing the box at his face would be rude or not.  He’s leaning towards slightly rude.  Over his shoulder, Coach Karpisek glares to keep civil.

 

Clearing his throat, he nods.  “Yes, thank you.  I’ll sit with you and eat a moment.”  JJ smiles and starts skating back towards Isabella and his parents, but slowly.

 

“So…You and Phichit, eh?”  He smiles, “I knew you weren’t going to the hospital just as a translator.” 

 

The Swiss sighs, rolling his eyes.  “It’s very recent, we only started being romantic yesterday.”  He corrects him.  “And there was no ulterior motive on the translation, I went because he needed a translator, and because I care for my friend…. And now lover.”

 

“Alright, alright! I got you… So, what’s got you down? Trouble in paradise already?”

 

Well, it was taking everything in his power not to grumble at this rink mate, and he didn’t want to upset anyone else there, as they were guests the same as he.  “No, not at all.  He’s off to get his stitches removed today, I just hope his appointment goes well, and that he won’t be in too much pain walking around this much.”

 

“How is he still in pain?” JJ asks, stopping to put his blade guards on before stepping off the ice.  “Didn’t this happen like a week ago?”

 

“…. Yes, but you fail to realize being cut open is rarely painless.”  He looks to Isabella and nods politely. “Thank you for inviting me to eat with you. I do appreciate the kindness.” Controlling his tongue would be difficult, and he glances about the group who seems awfully quiet around him, all but JJ are looking away.   “This is a quiet group.”

 

“So….. is……the whole gay thing why you wouldn’t go get drinks with me before then?”

 

_Sigh._   “No, JJ, I’ve actually been very busy.  Not sure why that would stop me from getting a drink with you to begin with...  Though I hardly think it’s a good topic to go over while we’re all eating.”  It appears most of the party is agreeing with Chris, though the competitor doesn’t seem to get the message as easily.

 

He holds his hands up to the Swiss man defensively, “I’m just saying! If that’s what was stopping you, we won’t judge!”

 

“Thank you, JJ.”  He goes to open the container with cheese and bread in it.

 

“…. So, uh…who’s the guy and who’s the girl in the relationship?”  That man is digging a hole, even if he is just trying to get close with the Swiss.

 

**Deep inhale.**   “… We’re both the guys in the relationship.”  Chris sets the box aside; his appetite has gone missing.  “Think of it this way, straight relationships are like a fork and a spoon, while queer relationships are like chopsticks.  That’s the point of it being a queer relationship, is there isn’t the stigma of having straight relationship roles.”

 

Isabella reaches a hand over to get a napkin between them, “JJ, honey, would you tell me again about the differences between Lutzes and Loops?”  She asks, somehow saving the conversation from taking a darker turn than needed.

 

Chris didn’t think he’d be grateful for anyone from the Leroy family, but today he was proven wrong with the one who was married in.  He just sips his water now while he listens to them all talk small chat amongst each other, wondering when would be a good time to step away.

 

“Chris!” Calls a voice, one that breaks the concentration of the room, everyone, even the employees turn to the doors, Coach Celestino holds it open as Phichit walks in, the ball of sunshine that he is.  Phichit isn’t running, but he is faster than he has been the past few days.  Chris smiles and looks eager to say something to greet him as he rushes over, the young man just yells, “We’re going to China!”

 

The shock in his face must say everything, as Phichit waits for a reaction.  “…. We…. You were cleared? You can fly to Beijing with us?”

 

“Got my stitches out and everything! Gave me some instructions on how to take care of myself, said to keep taking it easy, but I CAN GO WITH YOU!”The happiness that burned in his stomach filled him in an instant, he stands up and closes the gap between them.  The moment he is close enough, the shorter one throws his arms around him, getting a loving embrace in return.  “Let’s book our tickets and get the hell out of France! You have a gold medal to win!”

 

Josef looks shocked, adjusting his glasses.  “What? How? The doctor said two weeks when we left the hospital after your surgery, are you sure you heard her right?”

 

“She says athletes tend to heal quickly, said you guys took really good care of me!” His bright smile was sweet, cheek still squished to Chris’ chest as the coaches gather to join in on the celebration with a small applause.

 

Celestino chuckles and glances to Josef, “Should we take them out to dinner tonight? Celebrate before we pack?”

 

“Sorry, you two.”  Chris pulls out of the hug, but lets his arm linger around the Thai man’s shoulders.  “We have plans tonight, taking Phichit out, so don’t wait up for us.”

 

The Italian glances to the other, “Oh? Where are you going?”

 

“I told him, it’s a surprise! I can’t ruin the mystery now, can I?”  The Swiss man leans over to take his friend’s fingers, then kiss his forehead.

 

“Fine! Fine!” Coach Karpisek smirks, hiding his excitement in his face as he remembers seeing the phone blow up after last night’s Instagram post. “I’ll let you go early today, but I expect double the training when we get to Beijing, and only after you win gold will you get another day off!”  Chris smiles and starts pulling along Phichit, leading him over to the bench where their gear lies.

 

They leave the Leroy family to wonder exactly what they’re so excited about, as they’re barely listening themselves. 

 

 

 

Phichit steps inside, followed by the three men he’s been living with for this entire eventful week, “I’m going to take a shower, and then I’ll sit for a bit before we go out, is that alright, Chris?”

 

“Take your time~” The Blonde man smiles as he sets down his bags, noticing a bit of weakness in the Thai man’s face.  _“He’s been walking around all day, maybe date night will be too much for him to handle…”_   After all, the young man had been used to sleeping most hours of the day and night after all the events.  “I’ll take a shower after you, save the hot water.  So rest all you want before we go, dress comfortably~”

 

Phichit nods and shuffles to his room, off to go figure out an outfit, then get washed up.  Stepping in and out of the shower was always tricky, not wanting to slip in his already dizzy state, he’s held onto curtain bars to keep upright.  His medicine wanted him to sleep today despite having been comatose for the past few days.  Having the stitches out, he was already concerned for the feeling of throbbing that remained at the wound; the punctured skin didn’t look irritated, and the doctor had not questioned anything out of the ordinary.  All that seemed to remain were the specks of red against his tanned stomach, the remnants of stitches removed.

 

It seemed appropriate for him to wear something dressy for some reason, in the form of navy Chinos and a grey shirt with a red cardigan, wanting to look his best.  Though it would help him to know where they were going, perhaps he’d overdressed.  Then again, it’s better to look too good than too bad.  He combs his hair to the side as he does during performances, noticing it made him look more mature and handsome.

 

The plugged-in phone across the room starts trilling, catching his attention before he can sit down to put on his makeup in a chair; he takes his phone to see a picture of Yuuri on the screen coming in for a video chat.  _“Ah! This will be just like when he moved back to Hasetsu! Makeup and friend time!”_   He swipes the screen and smiles as the Japanese man appears on the screen. “Yuuri! I haven’t talked to you since I left the hospital! How are you?”

 

It seems like he’s at the China rink, doing some exercises while the phone seemed to rest on a bench or table. “I’m doing fine! And from the looks of your picture you posted last night, you’re doing even better!” Phichit giggles at the tone of his friend’s voice, and more at the raised eyebrow.  “You didn’t tell me you two were going out! I thought we were besties!”

 

“Psh! Yuuri, he just asked me out yesterday, and honestly, I’m not exactly the most awake person.  So why not post it online and announce it to the world instead of texting you first?” Phichit blinks, suddenly realizing Yuuri doesn’t go online for anything but gaming, it’s a rare instance he’d be flying through the social media feed before competition. “Does it have a lot of hits or something?”

 

“Victor showed me the picture, honestly, we got some messages asking if we knew about it though!”  The Thai man smirks, already thinking of a few people who would be prying his best friend.  “Also, Celestino sent me a picture with little hearts in it, and I figured you were too busy to say anything” There was a sigh and he mumbles, “I’m really excited for you, Phich.”

 

Applying some eyeliner in a small handheld mirror, his phone is propped up on the desk in the room.  “Why doesn’t it sound like you are, Yuuri?”

 

“….. You….You know, I just worry about this a bit.”  The talk that was about to come up is one Phichit expected from his friend, and he sits up after putting on the sharpest wings he can, looking down to the screen.  “Past experiences and all… You haven’t been in a relationship for a long time because of that guy back in Detroit.  Remember him?”

 

Phichit sighs, not wanting to spoil is night, hoping to enjoy it without the memories of an old lover.  “Of course, I do, Yuuri.  Chris isn’t like him at all, you know him.  We’ve been friends before the romance even began and he’s been nothing but respectful.”

 

“I didn’t mean anything against him, Phichit, you know I’m just looking out for what’s best for you.  Don’t….Just don’t be afraid to stand your ground if you feel undermined or uncomfortable in any way.  Ivan seemed nice at first and made you feel guilty for everything you did, even competing.  He almost ended your career.”  The Thai man takes a deep breath as he sets the makeup back in the green spotted bag, his eyes trailing down.

 

With those grey eyes, he searches the screen and sighs once again, it’s to help him compose himself after those rotten memories.  “Yuuri, I promise to be careful.  But please, trust me to have learned a lot since then, it’s been a few years since I got rid of Ivan, and it’s taken me a lot to even consider being with someone else.”

 

There’s the smile he was looking for, Yuuri does look proud of him for getting back out into the dating scene.  “Okay…. I really am happy you’re out there again, and maybe I’m overreacting per usual!  I just want my best friend to be as happy as can be!”

 

With a dolled up face, Phichit lightens up a bit.  “Just like you! How’s the wedding planning going?”

 

The stressed face returns and he leans down to pull at his legs, stretching them out.  “Like pulling teeth.  I didn’t realize how hard it is to get all our friends and family together for one day! The guest seating alone is ridiculous; I can’t figure out who’s going where or how many to a table!”

 

Back to playful laughter, the younger skater crosses his arms and looks down to the screen.  “I’m still your best man, you know, you can afford to let me help take the load off you!”

 

“Not while you’re still healing, wedding isn’t until the spring when cherry blossom season starts.”

 

“Bah, everyone thinks I’m suddenly made of glass! Send me the guest list and I’ll organize the table settings so nobody kills each other, and if anyone complains, we bridezilla their asses the good ol’ fashioned groom way.”  There’s a protest in the speaker as Phichit continues, “Come on, worst that will happen is I’m too tired and I’ll text you to figure it out yourself.  I promise!”

 

Yuuri hesitates, then sighs as he stands up, lifting the phone on the way and bringing it to his face.  “Fine, but you’re only doing that until you’re healed up, and then even then you’ll take it easy.  No ass kicking for you.”

 

A cute cheer comes from the Thai man; he even wiggles a bit in his chair. “Yay! I’ll expect it tonight after my date, wish me luck!”

 

 

 

Chris emerges from the basement door with keys in his hand, wearing a button-down shirt, looking to his phone to check the time when he hears the sound of a camera shutter, it halts him.  Looking around, he finds the coaches in the kitchen doorway to his right, Josef is confiscating Celestino’s phone.  “You dolt, it’s not prom night! Give them some privacy!”

 

“Coach Karpisek, take a moment to reflect on who my student is, then you will understand why I am taking pictures.”

 

The Swiss skater smirks, crossing his arms and glaring them both down. “Mom, dad, stop fighting. You know it upsets me!”  They both look over to him.  “Don’t tell me, you’re going to give me a curfew too? Did we order a corsage?”  He takes the Italian’s phone from his coach and hands it back to him.  “Celestino, send me the good ones.”

 

Karpisek blinks in surprise, smirking playfully to his pupil and teasing. “Unlike you to be so nonchalant about a first date, Chris.  Any reason why the sudden change?”

 

“I’m just excited is all, don’t think too hard about it, Josef~” He walks into the living room, noticing a black-haired man sitting in the recliner, drinking down a water bottle, looking worn down.  _“…Is he alright?”_   Phichit’s eyes were drooping, his hands were steady but the fidgeting seemed off.  He’s spotted by the Thai man, who suddenly seems to glow at the sight of his beloved date for the evening.  “Phichit, are you going to be okay for tonight?”

 

“Of course! …. Do I look bad?” HE frowns, standing up and facing Christophe.  “Yuuri was talking to me on the phone, so I was distracted when I was doing my makeup.”

 

Tensing up, he gulps, “No! No! You look wonderful, you just didn’t get that much time to rest today is all….” Good save.  “Between being on your feet all day and getting flight details for tomorrow, you didn’t get to lay down much, and I doubt your stomach is happy with that.”

 

“Ah well, it’ll keep me from being lazy~” Phichit smiles, stepping over to him and holding a hand out.  “Hey…I wanted to warn you, I haven’t been on a date in about three years, so I might be really awful at this whole romantic cutesy thing of a first date you have planned for us.”

 

His humor remains, it’s endearing to Christophe.  “Three years?” He takes the outstretched hand and squeezes, placing it close to his chest.  “Well, I’ll have to remind you how wonderful first dates can be~ I have an evening planned out that will help you realize why Giacometti airlines is the way to fly~” 

 

Even the coaches in the other room couldn’t hold it together with that comment, and Phichit shakes his head, howling with laughter. “Chris!”

 

 

Phichit sits in the passenger seat of the car, fiddling as he looks out the window, curious to what’s in store.  He notices how the dark purple of the night is decorated with golden lights and trickles of ice and snow around the windows and buildings.  This is the part of France he expected to see when he first arrived, and he didn’t even realize how close it was to the condo.  “Wow… The city is beautiful.”  Phichit sighs, in awe of his view.

 

“Isn’t it?”  The grey eyes follow the voice, looking to the driver.  “My family has always loved taking our vacations here, many summers, a few Christmases, and the Olympics one year!”

 

He leans his head back and turns it, smiling at the way he goes into talking about family again.  “Yeah? Is there any reason why your family adores it so much?”

 

“My parents met here.”  He simply explains, his cheeks grow warm with the smile on his face, thinking back on the many times he and his brother would gather around to listen to that story as children.  “They were exchange students that came to pares, only to find out that back in Switzerland, they were just one town away from each other.  He spoke more German than French, her the opposite, and he needed help adapting to living in France for school.  So she taught him, they fell in love almost instantly.”

 

“That’s so cute!” The younger man has stars in his eyes at the thought of it all, honestly, it sounded like a movie.

 

Chris smirks and glances over as the car slows down to a park.  “We’re all pretty adorable~” He chuckles and unbuckles his seatbelt.  “I trust you’ll know where we are, Chaton~”

 

Phichit blinks and turns to look out his window, where those eyes soon grow in surprise, the sight of the mighty Eiffel tower in bright gold is a stone’s throw away.  The symbol of France.  He climbs out from the side of the car with jaw hanging open as he looks up to it, breath halted, it was even more beautiful than he imagined it would be, and much bigger.  “…. Wow!” He sighs, almost forgetting how cold it was as he stood on the sidewalk.  “It’s so bright!”

 

Chris gets to see him light up, and it’s more than wonderful. The young man deserved this joy, and it almost ached to not have been able to provide it until now.  He gazed at him with gentle hazel eyes, humming as he admired how happiness looked even more beautiful on this man.  “You said you haven’t been to France before, and you didn’t get to tour it before your surgery, so this was the best thing I could think of.”

 

The Thai boy is already taking pictures from where they are, amazed at the breathtaking sight.  “I love it! This is what I wanted to see the most!”

 

“Good, come on, we’ll get closer.”  With a nod, they link arms and walk on the sidewalk towards the monument.  “So, why haven’t you come to Paris before?”

 

“Well, I didn’t know if I ever would, then again I’m only twenty-two, and I have a lot of life left to visit places…”

 

Chris sometimes has to remember that he is almost six years older than Phichit, to his grimace, and it feels strange.  However, in this situation, age couldn’t change their feelings for one another, as they were both adults.  “I can’t say there’s many places left I haven’t visited that I want to.  Maybe someday I’ll get to see Thailand though~”

 

They stand at the base of the tower, the two of them have to lean back to look up at it as Phichit smiles, sighing, “I’ll get to show you someday, I’m sure!”

 

Christophe grins, reaching over to take his gloved hand in his own, warming it up as he saw the young face searching each bit of it in sight.  “Why don’t we step over here? I have just a bit more to show you!”

 

Phichit looks up as he is led towards the tall metal beams that curve at the foot of this mighty tower, Chris must have something special planned.  At the bottom, a man in a thick jacket stands before an elevator door. “Christophe! Je me demandais quand vous alliez vous présenter.”

 

Chris answers, bowing his head to this friend. “Désolé pour l'attente, je voulais le surprendre.”  He looks down to Phichit, nods, then reaches into his coat to hand over an envelope. “J'ai apporté l'autographe de votre soeur.”

 

There’s a sudden wary feeling in the Thai man’s gut, something about being in a dark corner with a stranger and someone he hopefully cares for exchanging something in a different language.  He gulps and lets his eyes search for an escape route if he needs it.

 

With the sound of a crank, he jumps in his own shoes, looking over as the elevator door opens.  “…. W-We’re going up?”  There’s a stubble framed smile that peeks down, nodding gently.  Suddenly it doesn’t seem as scary, maybe he didn’t have anything to worry about.  “Is this okay?”  He starts leading him into the elevator.

 

“Edwin is a friend of mine, just doing a favor in exchange for a gift to his younger sister, and I’ll be able to make your night magical~ …. Is this alright? If you don’t feel up to it, we can stop.”  There was that way Chris spoke, and it made him melt, wanting to hold onto him forever.

 

“No, no, I just want to make sure it’s alright.”  The two smile at each other.

 

Chris bows his head to Edwin, “Allons-y!”

 

 

Standing where he is, Phichit is sure this is the top of the world, as far as the eye can see is all that was alive, as it was incredible what being so high up in this tower showed.  There’s a river, buildings all around him, and in the nipping cold air, he barely notices the cold as it stung his round cheeks, warming by the second by his blush.

 

“Over there is the Pont d’lena, it’s the bridge into some of the most beautiful parts of Paris, and over there in that arrangement of houses in the distance is our condo!”  He points, staying close to his patient to keep him warm, watching for any signs of discomfort in anything he does, there doesn’t seem to be anything hindering.  “And if you look very closely, over here…” He points another direction, “An apartment my family rents out whenever we come here, so we have a bit of a view to look over here~”

 

“Chris…” He gazes up, “This is…. Overwhelming, it’s beautiful, but overwhelming… You chose this as a first date, I’m guessing to knock my socks off?” He smirks up to him.

 

Christophe Giacometti, such a romantic, but he merely wraps his fingers around Phichit’s and chuckles.  “Not at all; Paris is like a second home to me.  I wanted you to see how wonderful it is before we go, it’s very important to my family.”

 

“…Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make it seem like a joke, I really am enjoying myself!”

 

There’s a glance down to him as the Swiss chuckles away further.  “Calm down~ You’re doing fine, Phichit, you’re just too nervous for a first date…. Why don’t I calm down the air a bit with some music, oui?”

 

As Christophe starts searching for a specific song on his playlist, one that isn’t recalling of porn introductions, Phichit takes a deep breath.  “I hope you haven’t gone out of your way to do all of this, especially if it’s interrupted your practice.”

 

“Chaton~” The Swiss man interrupts as he sets the phone in his shirt pocket, the sound of a piano trickles from his speaker, and he gently places a hand on his cheek.  “Darling, you’re worrying over if I went out of my way, and so what if I did or did not?  I’m not here to woo you, win you, or sweep you off your feet.  This is a date, and we’re here to have fun… If this gesture is too big, I just need you to trust me enough to tell me~”

 

Phichit blinks up to him and leans his cheek into that cotton glove with a smile.  “I love it, Chris… I really do, it’s beautiful.   I’m just not used to such a sweet person willing to do this!”

 

A question lingers behind stubbled lips, but he withdraws from it.  _“That last lover he had… I wonder if he’s alright to be dating.  If he needs to talk, I’m sure he’ll come to me….”_ To change the tone back to romantic, the strong arms of the taller one pull him close in an embrace.  “Then nobody has treated you the way you deserve, Phichit~”

 

There’s a mixed swirl in his gut when he hears those words, happiness that mixes with confidence, Chris gently holds his head against his chest, pretending he didn’t see the slightly sad look in the Thai man’s face as he smiles.  Tonight was a happy night.  Instead, he hums into the air along with the song on his phone, even if it was about to end. 

 

The song closes out as they keep swaying, though neither one of them even remember when it first began, the dancing.  The winter wind howls around them, like it was part of the music, and as the next song trails in, it fills the metal bars around them.  _“Ne me quitte pas~”_ And they both break out into laughter, somehow that song that had brought them together two days in a row was sneaking in again.

 

“The song is following us, Chris.”

 

The taller one snickers, twirling his lover gently and then pulling him close again, slowly dipping him while supporting him with a strong arm.  “ ♫ Don’t leave me~”  He recites, “I will invent for you meaningless words that you will understand.  I will speak to you of these lovers that we've seen twice, their hearts embracing each other.  I will tell you the story of this king who died of not being able to get to know you~♫”

 

Phichit blushes and giggles away as he looks up at him, but seems a bit uncomfortable at the strain at his abdominal muscles, and Chris immediately pulls him upright to keep him in one piece.  “You’re one of a kind, Giacometti~”

 

He cups his face in his hands once more, kissing just the tip of his nose with soft lips.  “As are you~ Isn’t it lucky we’ve come to meet each other?”  He asks, gazing down to the shorter lover.

 

This young Thai man’s hands gently take hold of the long scarf that curtains over his overcoat, feeling his neck tugged on with it, their lips collide in a cold and hastened kiss.  When he pulls back, giving flirtatious eyes that seem to bat irresistibly.  “Yeah, we’re pretty lucky~” 

 

Chris recognizes those eyes, the ones that ached for more to touch, and he leans in to kiss further, feeling those cheeks heat up in his hands as he snickers through his nose to keep their lips together.  Phichit reaches up to wrap his arms around him, head tilting as his soft lips nip at the Swiss man’s, hungry to keep warm in this cold weather.  He barely realizes when his tongue slips into the taller man’s mouth, yet his caretaker is utterly shocked and delighted to feel him eagerly trying to taste for more.  He joins in, feeling the vibration of a gentle moan escape between them.

 

_Oh, what a noise._   He wants to hear it again, and as his tongue pries into his lips once more, he’s awarded with another breathy moan that breaks apart with a shiver of the cold air to come between the heated lovers.  He remembers what was said the night before, about how sensitive his ears were, and with a strong hand, fingers slip into the black hair and tug at his earlobes. “C-Ch…. Chris, god….” He breaks the kiss, hands shaking as they hold his scarf.

 

The enticing urge to move forward is interrupted by a frozen gust that stings the sides of their faces, like the snowflake sizzled on their blushing cheeks, Phichit squeaks at the surprise and shivers away, still pressed against his lover.  Chris just starts laughing at that, panting a bit.  “It is much too cold for us to do this up here…. Seems like the temperature is dropping by the second.  We don’t want to be sick on the plane, now do we?”

 

“Yes! That would be awful… Did you wanna get something to eat? My treat!”  Chris smiles down to him and adjusts his jacket, “I saw this café I sort of wanted to try out when I went shopping a few days ago, it smelled incredible.”

 

“Please~ It sounds lovely.”

 

 

 

A trip to the café turns into whipped cream covered kisses, holding hands while people watching, watching live music from a small-town guitarist, and the two make sure to give her a hefty tip in her little jar and make her night even better.  Chris tells him about this amazing zoo over where he used to live, and how he almost wanted to be an acrobat in the circus he saw as a child.  Phichit tells him about his love for music, and how he could never go into theater because of his terrible acting, however he was a tree once in the Wizard of Oz in preschool. 

 

They talk about everything, from school to favorite collections of things, favorite posters, inspirations, books, movies, animals, and even favorite summer destinations.  Phichit had forgotten what this feeling was like, the feeling of being excited on a date, for the possibility of falling in love.

 

 

 

When the four condo guests took off for the airport, the whole place was cleaned and the plants were watered, bags organized and tickets in hand, and Chris had his armed linked with his lover’s most of the way.  The Thai man splurged for first class to give himself comfort, Chris and the two coaches decided to join in since they could afford it, and it would be better since most likely practice would immediately begin when they landed.  AS he settled into his seat, he starts feeling the dizzy side effects of his pain medication, close to the last doses remaining. 

 

“Feeling alright, Chaton~?” Chris leans over, seeing how tired he looks.  “I didn’t think I was too distracting while we slept last night, I tried to keep my hands to myself~”

 

Phichit smirks and hooks on his seatbelt, and pulls a blanket over his legs.  “I’m alright, I’m just dizzy.  But it’ll be better to be knocked out on the flight than to be watching awful movies the whole time.”

 

Chuckling in response, Chris stretches out one last time and sits beside him, pulling a book out. “Well, I’ll be right here; it looks like we’re about to take off.  If you feel nauseous, I asked for some extra sicky sacks.”  Barf bag was such a gross term, and the way he said it made his lover snicker.  “Yes, I’m very prepared!”  He gets a big smile filled with a grateful warmth, but the tired eyes have already started to close as Phichit begins dozing off.  Chris is surprised to see how he drops off so easily.  _“Goodness, that medicine takes quite the toll on him…”_

 

The takeoff was smooth, barely disturbing the one who has already taken slumber in his seat, having a long flight ahead of him.  Chris takes his time to snack on some cashews, catch up on the book he’s been neglecting, and to squeeze in a nap as well.  How silent the flight was, peaceful, barely any turbulence in the wintery day.

 

Eleven hours of flying was nothing while he slept, as it was like the whole world sped up while his eyes were closed, dreaming of bringing his cat with them to the competition, as silly as it would be.  Poor little kitty couldn’t handle all the excitement.  There’s a few little thoughts in there, like Victor taking him out for drinks after winning gold, some double date with the soon to be married couple, a strange television character going on the ice for the exhibition skate.  All natural dreams of one who is going to be competing in the next few days. 

 

Though he doesn’t sleep terribly deep, and he’s awoken by a gentle shake of the airplane that doesn’t last.  _“Hm…… Goodness, I wonder what time it is…”_

 

He glances to his side, seeing if Phichit has woken up yet, perhaps they could talk for a while and joke around about the upcoming event.  But beside him isn’t a sunshine filled face he’s used to, instead, it’s contorted in pain, with tense arms shaking as they lay crossed on his abdomen.  “…Phichit?” Chris frowns.  There’s no answer, none verbal, just a panic that silently fills the air between them.  “Phichit!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAAAANNNNNNGGGGSSSSTTTT TIME.
> 
> So, discussion time. I've got the rest of the next few chapters planned out, and I'm currently talking with multiple people on how things should happen and when and all.
> 
> If you guys really adore it, please check out the art by Jellyfish Song on Tumblr! 
> 
> http://jellyfish--song.tumblr.com/post/159443207484/commission-for-almightysquid-for-hers-fic-the


	9. Past, Present, and Future

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Phichit, this is my mother, Julia Giacometti.” The light eyes of the woman follow Chris’s gaze as he doesn’t take them off this young man, both looking quite tired. “Maman, this is Phichit. He’s my boyfriend.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So!!!! I have fun in stock for these guys, but I couldn't resist leaving you with that angst last night when I posted, lol. LOVE YOU GUYS.
> 
> But here we go, now it's a slower chapter that gets a bit boring in my opinion, but the next one is where the fun really begins!

 

_Phichit takes a deep breath and opens his eyes, his sight his blurred at first, leaving him with just the sunlight that comes through a small window in the corner.  Where are the plane noises he had just heard a moment ago? They have been replaced with the honking of car horns, the hiss of what sounds like a city bus.  He hasn’t heard that in a long time, not since…. Wait a moment, it sounds exactly like his Detroit apartment.  His eyesight clears as he looks around, noticing the familiar room with his dresser and the same blue sheets he had when he used to live there._

_There’s a feeling of heat all over his abdomen, as if he were on fire inside.  He doesn’t realize there are arms wrapped around him until they squeeze his arms, restricting him and humming in his ear.  “What…?” He shifts uncomfortably, mumbling and lifting his head to look around, only to feel it pressed down with a kiss to the side of his head.  “Chris…?” No wait, this is Detroit.  “Yuuri?”  He blinks, trying to turn his head to see who holds him, yet the lips stay there._

_“I don’t think you need them around, Phichit.”_

_That voice was soft, considerate, familiar….. that familiarity is sinister.  It was in the way he heard his name spoken in an American inflection, the way he was held with his arms restricted from pushing away, sensation like he was squeezed hard enough to suffocate._

_“Ivan….”_

_“I don’t want to play around anymore, Phichit.  We had a lot of fun together.”_

_He’s rolled over onto his back, still feeling like it’s so constricted around his chest. “Let me go, we had an agreement.”  His voice is stern as he talks up to the man with short brown hair, Phichit growls.  “I still have the checks!  I swear!”_

_“Phichit?”_

_“Ivan, I swear!”  He can feel his wrist gripped as he crosses his arms._

_“Phichit!”_

Chris moderately shakes his arm, trying to rouse him up when he doesn’t answer immediately.  The motion makes Phichit unravel from his curled-up position in the plane seat, eyes snapping open as he yanks his body away from that side of the chair.  It takes him a second to release that angered expression, realizing the person before him was a safe face.

 

He wasn’t in Detroit.  He wasn’t with Ivan.  He was in a good place, a better place than there.

 

“…Chris?”

 

“Phichit, are you alright?  What’s wrong?  Are you in pain?” The Swiss man wants to scoop him up, hold him tight, protectively, somehow.  “You looked like you were in agony!”

 

The Thai skater airs more relieved, but he shakes his cranium, “No…No…. I uh…. I just had a dream.”  He gulps, a feeling in his stomach was heavy, perhaps the medicine was getting to him. 

 

Chris stares into his face, and gulps, not sure if he’s relieved or not.  “…..Are you….sure you’re….”

 

“Yes!  I’m sorry, yes, I just…. I…”

 

Chris presses his forehead into Phichit’s shoulder, a sigh dumped out of his chest like it was all the air in the world needing to get out. “Phichit, you nearly killed me.  I thought something had gone wrong with your wound… Do you want to talk about it?”  He holds his hand out.

 

Phichit gratefully takes his hand, leaning back a little better attuned.  His stomach is uneasy, some feeling of pressure as if he were a balloon needing to pop, it made him uncomfortable. “Oh….Uh….just… It’s just an awful one about my ex…. My dreams get really vivid with pain medication.”

 

Chris doesn’t know if he should press on from there, noticing how the  smaller man shifts uncomfortably in his seat at the mention of it.  “…We’re probably going to be landing soon, but if you want, we can talk about it or go back to  sleep.”

 

His hand is squeezed, the other party just as concerned.  “I’m sorry I’m so secretive about him.”  He looks up to him with a lump in his throat.  “I guess it feels like voodoo if I even mention his name.” 

 

“No, Please, I would prefer you to be comfortable than for me to be nosy.” 

 

Phichit squeezes his hand and looks up to him, he needs to say something about it, as it sits in his stomach heavily.  When his grey eyes meet up with the hazel ones, there’s an understanding.  “…His name is Ivan.”  His hands release from the other’s clasped embrace and he rubs his tired eyes, hopefully to keep them from welling up if they decide to.  “He’s a skating sponsor from an American company.”  Though his words started, his discomfort didn’t let up, like his stomach had inflated.  “We were together for less than a year, but it felt like it was so much longer than that.

 

Chris settles to listen, wanting to know what turmoil lay on his path of this new relationship; it was a personal belief that experiences like this would shape how he should treat his lover.  As one who based most of his career on love and forms of it, it was a heavy ethic that shaped how he spoke with those he cared about.

 

“We met at the Four Continents banquet, and we hit it off immediately.  I found out he wasn’t too far away from my Detroit apartment I had with Yuuri at the time, and we went clubbing every chance we got.  He was a party friend that seemed to know the ins and outs of every place we went to.”  So far, the story sounded like a bad one night stand, but Chris knew to keep his mouth shut.  “After one particularly bad night of drinking, we…. Got more involved.”  He adjusts to get comfortable, turning his head to face Chris just gently, the pressure relieves slightly as his seatbelt is loosened.  “When we made it official, I really thought he and I were a good match; we always got along and had similar travel and work schedules….”

 

“… I sense there’s a ‘however’ in this, Phichit…” He offers his hand again, which is taken without hesitation, squeezed for comfort.

 

How there is still sunshine in Phichit’s tone is beyond him, his smile is permanent in his face, how it lingered even in these bad memories.  “There is…”  He faces forward again, looking down at his tray.  “He started getting…. Possessive….”  The words meant nothing separate, but of course in that order, Chris himself wanted to go back in time to fix it all. “He was keeping tabs on me through my phone, told me to stop being around my regular group of friends.  At one point, he tried limiting my calls to my family, and always made me feel guilty for trying to talk about it, how it made me upset.”

 

Chris has a gentle realization as to why he was so thankful for accepting the word ‘no’ before during their snuggling.  “That’s awful.”  He simply reassures.

 

Phichit nods, actually feeling some weight off his shoulders as he opens up.  “He even fought with Celestino and Yuuri!”

 

“…Yuuri?”  He blinks.  “It’s hard to believe, since he has the spine of a wet noodle.”  Perhaps that was too mean.  “But I’m sure in the right situation he can be protective, you’re his best friend after all.”

 

“Yeah, Ivan tried to get him to move out so he could move in; Yuuri is the one friend I had who noticed how manipulative he was.  He started coming to the rink and tried to control my skating career, picking my theme and what I’d do, how often I’d practice, and how much my coach got to see me.” 

 

The Swiss man hears his voice, how it strains dryly at the mention of these memories, and he slides his miniature water bottle over to him.  “So, how did you do it then?”

 

Phichit starts to look slightly proud, a good sign for the blond lover, who straightens his back to lean in and hear it.  “I knew some things that Ivan didn’t want me to know, how he wasn’t wealthy for good reason… He often tried to do business deals outside from the company with competitors and embezzled some money for their business dates.”  The returning smile was reluctant, but the fact it showed meant everything.  “So I told him it was over, and when he started threatening my career…. I showed him how I had fourteen copies of checks he had tried to use for his company account.”

 

“... You took control back.”  There’s a tired nod, Phichit doesn’t seem to want to say anything else, but he does pull out his phone to fiddle with it for comfort, he looks down to the shut off electronic and traces his thumb along the hamster design that sat on the back of it. “…Phichit?”  He looks up again.  “I’m sorry you had to go through that, it must have been hard to want to be with someone again… I’m very glad you chose me for the job though~” He leans in to kiss his forehead very gently.  “I’m glad you told me.”

 

The overhead speaker turns on as well as an orange light, a French speaking pilot announces something that vaguely resembles the words on the pamphlet he received.  Seems as though they’re to be landing soon.  Chris puts his seatbelt back on and lifts his tray.  “Chris… Just don’t think you have to be careful around me, alright? I’m not fragile. I’m ready to be in a relationship.”

 

“Oh, I don’t doubt it~ I just want you to let me know if I need to slow down.  I never want to make you uneasy.”  Those words are soft, how they whisper so much easier than the dream he’d awoken to.  “And I know being with me isn’t going to be a cure for an abusive relationship you had in the past; but I’m here for you and to help you if you ever need it~”

 

“You’re such a corny old man~” He mumbles, folding his own tray back up.

 

“Yeah, yeah, don’t break a hip standing up in your chair, Mr. Delicate frail body.” 

 

 

Landing was the easy part, but standing around as they wait for their bags was grueling, everyone was nearly falling asleep on their feet with some varying levels of difficulty.  Phichit seems to be the only one of them with some energy, as he had slept nearly twelve hours in a drug induced slumber.  It was 7 am in China, a completely dead airport on a Monday morning filled with elevator music and the whirring of machines and planes.  Luckily, this was a good window to take medicine a bit earlier, as Phichit liked to do as of late, keep the in betweens from feeling worse.

 

“Okay, everyone.” Coach Karpisek rubs the bridge of his nose, lifting his glasses to do so.  “We made it, just in time for time limitation check ins, but our hotel isn’t expecting us for a bit, and we need to check in at the rink in an hour and a half for attendance and warmup for Chris.”

 

Celestino stretches and hoists up his bag over his shoulder.  “We can last, Chris, can you?”

 

He nods with a chuckle, “Yes, I napped on the plane a few hours.  We can live.” There’s a smirk as he lifts his final bag, donned with the Swiss flag patterned suitcase of his.  “The real question is how Phichit feels.  Do you want us to call a cab to get you to the hotel? You may be unstitched, but you still need rest.”

 

“I’m breathing, aren’t I?” The Thai man goes to pick up his bag to prove his mighty words when Celestino snatches it from him, getting a sleepy glare in return.  “…. Ciao-Ciao, I’m not broken, I can carry my own bag!”

 

Celestino looks at him with a playfully confused expression. “Mi dispiace, io non parlo inglese!” He smirks, swinging it over his shoulder.

 

Chris can’t help but snort at that, starting to lead the party out to the exiting terminal.  “I’ll have to remember to use that one in the future.  Phichit rolls his eyes, walking with them to go pick up their rental car, feeling useless without a bag to carry with them.

 

The drive was about an hour, and as they all begin to settle in their seats, Coach Celestino offers to drive, allowing coach Karpisek to get some sleep.  Chris would have to try as well, luckily, he’s mastered many types of sleep, and travel sleep was about one third of his life’s rest.  The two leaned against each other in the backseat, eyes glued shut with the gentle dim morning, the silent smooth ride was only accompanied by the sound of passing cars.

 

Phichit couldn’t sleep much, he’s been knocked out for the most part of the past twenty-four hours, and he just lays there, mind wandering with his mind adventuring over the talk he had with his new boyfriend, and how his hand doesn’t seem to waver with how sweetly their fingers entwine.  How the support didn’t waver after such a spotted background of love had appeared there.  It gives him hope, even as it blossoms being brand new.

 

The car is suddenly startled by a ringtone, one that jostles Christophe awake with a small jump against the leather seat as his eyes flutter.  “Mmph…”  He grunts, patting himself down to find his phone, his hands finally get ahold of the white rectangle making the racket, and he holds it to his ear. “Bonne nuit…”  A muffle can be heard from the other party, a higher pitched voice that has a familiar tone and tongue as the French words spoken.  “Maman, il ressemble toujours a la nuit…” More muffling leads to the Swiss man laughing, and he crosses his arms.  “Maman!”

 

Phichit smiles and rubs his eyes, looking out the window to the dark morning, watching to see where they are. _“That’s sweet, it must be his mother, at least I think that’s what ‘maman’ means…”_

Chris looks beside him to the Thai man, so comfortably tucked in his sweater and car blanket.  “…Il y a quelqu’un que je voudrais que tu rencontres, maman!”  He turns to Phichit.  “Phich? Chaton, come here.” The young skater turns his head back and scoots in a bit to the phone as Chris turns the phone to its side and presses a few buttons, holding the screen up to change to video.

 

A blonde woman appears on the screen, a very beautiful one with quite the smile and aged features at the corners of her eyes, her curls spilled over her small frame covered in a sweater vest.  Chris’ smile matches hers nearly, minus the lovely pink lipstick she sports.  “Oh! …..Chris?”

 

“Phichit, this is my mother, Julia Giacometti.”  The light eyes of the woman follow Chris’s gaze as he doesn’t take them off this young man, both looking quite tired.  “Maman, this is Phichit.  He’s my boyfriend.”

 

A sudden happiness flows through the Thai man where his wary panic once sat in his sore stomach, and he beams light the sun could never hope to shine.  “Oh! Hello! Or….uh… How do I say hello again? Bonjour?”

 

“Yes! You did it!”  Julia smiles laughing excitedly.  “You are Phichit Chulanont, yes?”  She looks as if she’s translating in her head.  “You have skated with Christophe in your competitions together!”

 

“Yes! It’s wonderful to meet you!” It was as though exhausted feelings had disappeared, this was very important.  “I’m so glad to meet you, and to say to someone besides Josef how thankful I am for Chris and how he saved me on the ice last week!”

 

She laughs, seeming to stand to get into better lighting.  “Christophe is my baby; I only hope you’re treating him as nicely as he is to you.  I don’t know if I can give those protective parent talks, I get too excited meet new people.” Phichit already knew he was going to get along with her, she seemed like she would have a million embarrassing pictures of the small swiss child.  “So, you’re from Thailand! Is that where you’ll raise the children?” She jokes

 

“Maman!” Christophe laughs, shaking his head, “I’ll hang up on you, I swear!  I’m not as patient as Luca is when it comes to your jokes.”

 

“Oh, can’t I have any fun, sweetie?”  She taunts gently, Phichit can see where the banter has come from immediately, and he’s snickering in his seat.  “Phichit! Make sure my boy’s getting all his sleep and eating and that he’s not doing some godawful song in pink tights like last year.”

 

He laughs, then looks over to Christophe.  “Oh, come on, don’t you think pink is his color though? I mean, he’s like a big blonde flamingo in that leotard.”

 

“This was a mistake.” Chris pouts to the pair.  “It seems like we’re about to park, could we talk when I am about to sleep tonight, Maman?”

 

The opposing screen starts to shift as she picks up the phone, turning it upright so she can get the number typed in, she’s now sideways on the phone.  “Not until I get Phichit’s phone number, I need to plan your birthday party and he sounds like he’d know how to throw a real banger!”

 

“Don’t say banger, maman.”

 

“Banger!”

 

“Maman.”

 

How Phichit isn’t rolling out of the car laughing at this point between them is only saved by the fact that the door isn’t so easily broken down, and the young man gladly gives his number to her over the phone while he still has her.   “Phichit, if you really want to get on his good side, Christophe loves his cheese!  You two should cook together!  I’m getting ahead of myself though! I’ll text you, Phichit!”

 

“Okay! It was wonderful to meet you!” He chuckles in response as they say their goodbyes and end the call.  Chris is trying not to laugh harder than he is, and he looks over to his lover. “…You brought this upon yourself, Giacometti~”

 

 

The parking lot to the ice rink was packed, about the busiest place to be at this time in the morning.  Multiple news vans are lined up in parking spots with recognizable logos seen before at competitions.  AS they park near some, Phichit takes a deep breath in realization that he’s not prepared to look the way he does in front of a camera.  “Oh great…we’re in airplane clothes and I have no makeup on… hooray..”

 

Chris grins and he leans over. “You’ll be fine, Chaton~ Just know out of all of us, you have a good reason to look tired.  If it makes you feel any better, I’m not wearing any makeup either.”

 

He giggles, opening the door and using the handle to carefully pull himself out, the lightness of his head makes it feel as though it could fly away in the winter breeze. “Thanks, I feel like the belle of the ball now.”

 

Walking inside, the noise of the press could be heard inside the rink arena from the other side of the door.  All four walk over to the front entrance to check in, ID’s out, authorization hanging around their necks with shoelace like threads to give them permission to walk inside.  Phichit rubs his abdomen slightly, still uncomfortable from their plane ride, and it wasn’t mixing well with the medicine’s side effect he so hated.

 

“Chris!” Calls a Russian accent, as buttery as the last time he heard it.  Turning some heads as they are called, Victor Nikiforov is entering just behind them with his red and white Russia jacket and matching skating bag.  “Yuuri! Phichit and Chris are here! Hurry up!”  He shouts over his shoulder.

 

Phichit smiles to the Russian, watching as Chris walks over to greet him in a much calmer manner.  “Your age must be showing, Victor, I just got off a plane and I got here earlier than you. And my hair looks better.” 

Despite the clear joking attitude in his voice, the silver haired fox has a sense of clenched teeth in the way he speaks next.  “Nobody’s hair looks better than mine.” 

 

Celestino turns his head, his own long flowing locks about to be locked into this silly conversation between rivals, when he feels a hand grip his jacket gently.  He looks down to a worn skater, who looks about twelve times sleepier than he did just five minutes before.  “Ah… You look like you need to sit, Phichit.”  Nodding a response was the easy part of admitting it, and the Italian coach turns to the administrators of the front desk, asking if there’s a wheelchair his student could use.

 

The group turns to see Phichit sitting in one, a bit of distress in his eyes, ,but he’s smiling as bright as ever.  “Aw, are you dizzy, Chaton?”

 

Nodding, he sighs and leans back, keeping his hands from rubbing his abdomen; it was bound to cause more concern in the Swiss man than he needed to.  Especially if there was no real pain, just some tenderness.  “Can’t take me anywhere, can you?” He giggles, looking to the Japanese man who seems to bounce in his place, like he’s waiting for permission.  “….. Can I  get a hug, Yuuri?”

 

“I thought you’d never ask!” Dropping his bags, Katsuki has his arms thrown around him in a gentle squeeze, reuniting with his best friend with a happy heart.

 

Victor squeezes in again.  “Phichit, if you thought you almost died, you should have seen Yuuri when he heard you were in the hospital, he was ready to fly out to see you two seconds into the video.”

 

“Oh right.” Christophe recalls, “You were screaming at me on facetime! In the hospital waiting room!  How did you enjoy those breathing exercises I gave you~?” 

 

If Yuuri had the guts to, he’d flip off the Swiss man as he hugged Phichit endearingly, but he ignores him and questions everything the young man does.  “Are you alright? Have you eaten today? How on earth did you get here?  I hope you didn’t fly.”

 

While everyone starts talking, Phichit takes a deep breath to separate who is saying what to whom.  Luckily, it seems like Chris can answer the questions that everyone seems to have overwhelmed him with every time they get a chance to see him. It’ll be nice to be able to go without the concerned parent tone the world has grown attached to using on him.  The feeling in his stomach is still heavy, and a taste of iron and acid lingers on his tongue somehow, like nausea was lurking. 

 

It would seem it’s time for the skaters to line up, each taking a mini red carpet entrance to the rink where all the press was gathered.  One of the hardest parts about the Grand Prix Finals were the abundant journalists who came out of the woodworks with distracting cameras and questions.  Christophe seemed to always be a friend of the press while still maintaining his fierce skating routines, as he answered questions while looking impressive with his moves.  Honestly, Phichit is sure if he just grabbed his own ass in front of a camera for ten minutes, it might show up on athletic news.

 

It sounds a little familiar actually.

 

 

The power couple walks through the doors first, a blurr of flashing lights and shouting breaks the silent barrier that was once the lobby.  Victor squeezes the hand of his husband-to-be with an excited smile as he waves, wanting to catch everyone’s attention at once and shake their hands happily. 

 

Chris turns before it’s time for him to walk through the doors, kneeling before his lover to fix his hair and stroke his cheek.  “Chaton, you look a little stressed.”

 

“I’m okay!” He smiles in return, assuring him with his gentle glance.  “My medicine probably doesn’t mix well with jet lag… I’ll be fine!”  He squeezes the bigger hand that lays against his face, and then kisses it.  “You worry way too much.”

 

The older man shrugs, a half grin lights up his seductive face he’s fixed to put on for the audience.  “Oh, Chaton~ I just want you to be prepared for the sex god that comes out in every competition… I want to make sure your heart can handle it~”

 

Josef nearly snorts, he hasn’t heard the raunchy talk Christophe’s always been famous for in a long time, as it’s been harmless flirting up until now.

 

Phichit can throw it right back and hums as he crosses his arms. “You’re lucky I’m confined to this wheelchair, Giacometti~”

 

“Phichit, please. I’m right here.” Grumbles Celestino, who grimaces just slightly, getting a laugh from the ball of sunshine that is his student.

 

Christophe steps out with Coach Karpisek and the shouting seems even louder as the wheelchair rolsl behind him, the cloth bars that hold the press back look strained as they get excited.  Other skaters turn to see the commotion, watching as the Swiss man is swamped with attention, even more so when Phichit is wheeled up beside him. “Ah! Wait a minute, I’m not one of the competitors this time, I should be behind you.”

 

“Phichit.”  His hand is taken, wrapped in the fingers of a sturdy man who smiles warmly to him.  “Relax~ You’re with me~”  Everyone seems to lose their mind at the gesture, pictures are bound to flood the athletic media while he’s like this.  It’s time to enjoy being the new power couple of the skating world, as Victor and Yuuri couldn’t take it all on their own forever.

 

 

 

Celestino rolls the chair over to the sidelines where press is barred off, he walks to his side and digs for a water bottle in the small backpack he had managed to bring in.  When he’s about to hand it over, he notices how Phichit closes his eyes and takes a deep breath through his nose.  “Are you alright, Phichit? You look overwhelmed.”

 

“I am.  I’m too dizzy.” He confesses, looking over with a slight tired pout, “I think I should make an appointment with a doctor over here just to talk to them about my medication, let them know the situation.”

 

The look on dear Ciao-Ciao’s face is concerned and he squeezes onto the water bottle until it crackles from the pressure.  “Phichit! Why didn’t you say anything?”

 

“Ciao-Ciao, nothing’s happened, but I want to be safe about all of this!  If my medicine is too strong while I’m on jet lag, maybe I’ll get a new prescription, or maybe even stop taking it altogether!” Warily glances are shared over to Chris, who is having an interview on the edge of the ice. “And we’re going to be calm about it, okay? Because everything is fine.”  The coach looks him, eyes searching for any indication that he’s wrong; Phichit holds his confident look in those words.

 

“…. I’ll call and we’ll get you an appointment tomorrow morning at the latest, okay? If we have to leave here now, we will.”

 

“Thanks, Ciao-Ciao.” His bubbly voice piipes, pulling out to see his texts, looks like Christophe’s mom is sending pictures of a kitty. “Aw!” He begins texting back.

 

 

** Giaco-mama **

**This is Chris’ bby**

** Me **

**Awww! I only ever saw pics so fluffy :D**

** Giaco-mama **

**U want to impress the family, she’s the one u have to start with!**

** Me **

**I will bring a feather toy and some catnip!**

** Giaco-mama **

**And cheese, bc oc chris’ cat likes cheese**

** Me **

****

**Looooollllll**

**She’s a very pretty kitty, pls tell her she’s pretty for me!**

** Giaco-mama **

**She puuurrrred! Mon Beaut! :0** **J** **J** ** <3 <3 <3**

** Me **

**Ah! She likes me already! <3**

He giggles in his seat, glad he’s already getting along with Chris’ mother; he was never worried when it came to meeting parents, as he was usually one to draw people in.  Mothers especially loved him, as he always made sure to remember his favorite little things about them, and tell them how special they are.  Phichit just always figured that was something one should do.

 

 

There’s a mutual agreement for Phichit to go to the hotel room, as being dizzy in a room filled with spinning athletes starts reminding him he isn’t competing, and gets a little boring.  Though he was quite the cheerleader for the Swiss man, who seemed to excel in showing off everything he could do for his lover to be beside the ice as he does so.  Every move he practiced seemed to have some dedication to it, and they all had to do with the young Thai man.  Honestly, everyone begins to wonder how long they’ve been dating, as it seems much lengthier than just a day or two.

 

After a gentle kiss goodbye, and a smile exchanged across the room, and some expletives from a specifically pissed off Plisetsky about keeping it out of the rink, Phichit and Celestino get a taxi to get to the hotel.  Phichit is glowing with a sense of adoration, the happy feeling of getting to be open with someone, how healthy it felt to be able to talk about things.  Though the heavy feeling in his gut raised his flags, he wonders if they’re just butterflies from what he feels towards Chris.

 

Though it doesn’t explain the taste of iron and acid that still sits on his tongue, radiating with the bubble of his stomach that growled angrily. 


	10. The Nightmare Becomes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To say it out loud, to hear himself come to the realization, it was as though someone stabbed into his chest and dragged the knife; ashamed, he can’t look into anyone’s eyes. Yuuri must be furious with him, his coach must be disappointed. It could have been avoided. This was his responsibility.
> 
>  
> 
> This was all his fault

 

Chris had eaten some delivery sent to the ice rink, showered, and changed into a comfortable outfit by the time he was leaving the rink.  Phichit hadn’t answered his texts, and for once, he wasn’t terribly worried about it. _“He must be so exhausted.  He didn’t seem like he was comfortable when we started practicing, I’m glad I told him to go back to the hotel.”_ As he strolls to the rental car, placing his athletic bag in the back seat, a hand settles on his shoulder.

 

Victor’s bright smile comes with the hand.  “Chris! You look good out there, a lot better than you usually do during warmups.  What happened to saving it all for the competition?”

 

“Who says that was my best?” He smirks to the Russian friend, turning around and leaning his back against the car, legs sore from today.

 

“Fine~ Fine~ Perhaps I should have Yuuri be my little cheerleader when I go on, the same as Phichit was when he was here!”

 

“I thought he already was!”

 

Yuuri chuckles and approaches the two, zipping up his coat and tucking his hands in his pockets.  “I am when I’m not your competitor, coach!”  His brown eyes look over to the Swiss man.  “Hey! Are you and Phichit doing anything tonight? We’re going out for hotpot.”

 

Pulling out his phone, the blond pulls up his messages.  “He stopped texting me a few hours ago, I think he fell asleep, and I’m not far behind.  Did you want to shoot for something tomorrow? Perhaps milder than hotpot, his stomach is going to be very delicate for a few weeks.”

 

The Russian pouts, “Hmm… Well, we could double date tomorrow! I’ll text you restaurants in the area, no bailing allowed! I know how you concentrate before competitions!”

 

Rolling his eyes, Chris puts his hands on his hips.  ‘You say it as though I never come through, Victor!”

 

“Chris, the most famous thing you come through is your pants when you’re on the ice, let’s be real.”

 

Three hearty laughs fill the parking lot and Chris runs a hand into his own hair. “Okay, you’ve got me~ I won’t bail, we’re in the same hotel anyway. Not like we could escape.”

 

“Good!”

 

 

 

 

 

 

The click of the door key announced so loud compared to the rest of the hallway, it made the hairs on the back of Chris’ neck stand as he hopes his lover hasn’t been awakened.  Opening the door and stepping inside proved a relief, as Phichit was still asleep in bed, he hasn’t moved since he closed his eyes and the blankets are hardly disturbed.  Careful tip toes lead him to the side of the bed, setting hi suitcase next to the couch with the other ones, and he kicks his shoes off his sore feet.  The bed dips as it gains another figure, one that slides in, leans over and kisses the cheek of his boyfriend, which feels quite warm to touch.

 

_“…. I hope he’s not coming down with anything, getting sick while still recovering doesn’t sound like the best plan, he’s still undeniably exhausted…. Come to think of it, today he’s been particularly weak.”_

 

As Chris inspects to his face, Phichit mutters at him wearily, barely peering open his eyes.  “About time you got back…”  It made him beam, his precious suitor turns his head a little to gaze up to him, receiving a loving kiss on the lips.  “Hmm… You need sleep…” He whispers.

 

“How do you feel?” He inquires, nuzzling up with him gently, attempting to keep him contented where he is.

 

“Sleepy…But glad you’re back…”  He mumbles further, yawning. “Get some rest, Christophe…” Though the words melt into steady breathing, like the Thai man had passed out once more.

 

“Sleep tight, Chaton~” He smiles laying his head on the pillow. _“His voice sounds tired, his body looks tired, I’m glad Celestino scheduled him an appointment tomorrow morning. We can get up together and talk a bit before breakfast at least.”_

It doesn’t take long to fall asleep, the skater competing is bushed enough to drop like a hat.  Chris doesn’t even dream this night, he only grips tightly to the much-needed rest, and hope that tomorrow’s practice will be just as good, if not better than today’s.

 

 

Phichit’s eyes flutter open in a disturbed daze, to the sound of his own gasp, and the feeling of a pain stabbing into his entire right side.  What time was it?  Did he forget to take his medication on time?  He looks around the room, remembering now they’re in a hotel and not in France; he hopes he remembers where his pain pills were.  “Ch…. Chris?” He whimpers, yet the man beside him doesn’t stir from his tired hibernation, too whooped to notice any noise. _“Okay…Okay…. He’s too tired to move…it’s okay, Phichit, you can find your pills.”_

 

Thinking was a bit difficult for some reason, trying to figure out where he usually put medicine. _“Ah! The bathroom!”_   He sat up a little big, the blankets over him seemed to release the warmth of the two bodies still under, yet he barely notices the temperature as his ache gets worse.  The way his chest hurt, as though he had coughed harder and harder until all his nerves were burning.

 

It felt like someone had sewn him shut filled with hot lava rocks, that pressure that was within him felt worse than the plane ride.  His steps were quick, as his tired uncoordinated body tries to hike over to the bathroom.

 

Phichit is not sure where he put the bottle, but if he takes them, hopefully some relief should come soon.  “Ch-Chris?”  He whimpers again into the dark room, hoping to get some help, only to receive the same silence as before.

 

The throbbing wave that hit him nearly knocked him down, as he tries to take a breath in to calm down, a groan comes out instead; clutching onto his shirt, he only feels it damp, slick to his skin.  His other hand searches for the bathroom switch shakily, the patter of his tears hitting the countertops and his legs shaking.  He feels sick, not like he was last week, he was in so much pain, it was nauseating.

 

The longer he was awake, the more he realized how panicked he was, and as his hand finally catches the bathroom light, he grunts at the temporary blindness it causes him, another wave surges through his torso and all the way up his spine.  His eyes adjust to the light as he looks at his blue sweater, yet it’s gained a new color since he last looked in the mirror.  There’s a sizable stain of reddish brown that sets against his abdomen, he gulps at the size of it, and as he lifts to see his dressings, they look soaked.  He can see now his once closed wound had somehow split open.

 

Phichit trembles, there was no holding back as he calls again in a desperate wail, “CHRISTOPHE!”

 

The instinct that came with the scream of someone he adored was enough to shoot him out of bed. The Swiss man jumps, his body upright and to his feet at the call for help, eyes darting around for the source.  His pupils eye over to the bathroom door, just in time to see Phichit leaning his back against it, and sliding down as he tried covering his abdomen with his sleeves.  The fears he had built up the past week looked all to be coming true.  “Phichit, Phichit, it’s okay, look at me!”  He stumbles over, trying to see if  this was somehow a nightmare his lover is having, or just some ache that could be nothing.  “Tell me what’s wrong, what is it? Look to me, Chaton.”

 

“Ch-Chris, help me!”  He cries into the air, lifting his arms to show his boyfriend the horrific scene.

 

His heart stops.  “Oh god, no…” Grabbing at his hands and holding them, he looks his dear Thai man in the eyes.  “I’m here, I’m here, it’s going to be alright!”  The pooled blood that soaked the clothes is overwhelming to see.  He may have been alright at the time before the surgery, but now he can see the dripping red, and it frightens the hell out of him.  “Wait here, Phichit, I need to get some help!” 

 

There’s a sense of slight relief that someone was helping now, he wanted to sob in happiness, but it came out in another exclamation for help.

 

Christophe runs across the hall where he left Coach Karpisek hours before, not even sure what time it was.  “JOSEF!”  He shouts, pounding on the door frantically, noticing the wet red mark his fist left.  When did he get blood on his hands again?  Didn’t matter. “COACH!”

 

Celestino’s door swings open beside it, looking wired awake and shocked at such ruckus in the hallway at this hour.  “Christophe, what’s wrong?”

 

Josef opens as well, looking like he was already dressed for the day, a bag over his shoulder.  “Chris! I’m ready, don’t need to be so…. Jesus, Mary, and Joseph… You’re bleeding.”

 

“It’s not mine… It’s Phichit’s.”

 

They’re stunned silent, but only due to worried glances to each other. “Oh boy, Celestino, go get towels! Chris! Go hold his hand, I’m going to call the emergency line and the front desk so they can direct them!”  Chris trusts him in his ability to go make all the phone calls as he returns beside Phichit.

 

It seems like Celestino has padded against the open area with a clean hotel towel, Phichit has his arms crossed against it to hold it there while the Coach starts cleaning up a bit of what’ around them.  Though Chris would protest, seeing less blood did make it easier to concentrate. “C-Chris, I’m s-sorry…” He mumbles with tears still in his eyes.  “I-I honestly didn’t mean to tear it!” 

 

“Nononono, Shhhh…” He shushes gently, taking his hand.  “You need care, and we’re going to do that. Help is on the way, and I need you to be with me right now, and to concentrate….”

 

It sounds like other doors are opening from what it seems, some chatter between Karpisek and possible hotel employees, or guests who are getting too curious.  “Ch…Chris….”  He gets the attention of the Swiss man, who stops looking around to keep his gaze on those grey eyes, trying not to show the terror in them.  “D….Don’t leave me.” He whispers, nearly sobbing them. “Don’t leave me….”

 

_“Ne me quitte pas….”_ His heart shattered at these words. “…. I won’t Phichit… don’t worry… I won’t leave you.”

 

 

Skaters alike stir awake at commotion, shouting and violent knocking, and they seem to gather at a distance as medical personnel rush in from the elevators; Yuuri Katsuki stumbles out to the crowd to see the commotion while Victor is currently showering.  JJ and his wife, Yuri Plisetsky, Otabek Altin, and a few others competing were around, but the prime focus of the Japanese man is who is missing from the crowd.  “What’s going on? Did I miss something?”

 

The youngest Russian looks over, “Piggy, you might want to go back to your room.  It’s not good out here.”

 

JJ looks to his wife and turns his head. “Christophe apparently started running around covered in blood.”

 

Yuri Plisetsky glares over his shoulder. “Hey, asshole, could you shut the fuck up for a minute?”

 

It’s too late, the Japanese Yuuri’s eyes grow wide. “… Phichit.  It’s gotta be Phichit!”

 

It is then the noisy room opens up again, they see the Thai skater rolled out on the stretcher brought by the medics, Christophe is by his side with a hand clamed to the young man’s.  The coaches haul bags out from the room for a stay at the hospital, busy with phones trying to organize who to call first in these situations.

 

Before Yuuri knows what his body is doing, with tears dripping down his face, he’s running as fast as he can towards the group, grabbing the sleeve of Celestino.  “Ah! Yuuri?”

 

“What happened?” He chokes, terrified for his dear friend.  “Is Phichit going to be okay?”

 

The Italian man keeps his pace, pulling him along. “We don’t know how it happened, he just started bleeding, we’re going to take good care of him, Yuuri.  If you’re coming to the hospital, I need you to hurry with us!”  The coach instructs, rushing to the elevators.

 

Yuuri jumps in with no hesitation, glad he was wearing his jacket when he stepped out of the room, and he looks to the numbers above the elevator door. “Is there anything I can do?” Though he’s momentarily distracted to the pair who are holding hands, both with dried blood sticky to the skin.

 

“Chaton, I’m right here. Look, Yuuri is too! Look, look… “ Phichit’s eyes were squeezed shut, the tears feeling hot enough to burn on his soft skin, hyperventilating out of fear for what was happening.  “Phichit, love, please, take a deep breath…”

The Japanese man leans over, taking his other hand. “I’m right here, Phichit.  Take a deep breath like you used to do with me in Detroit, one big one in, and one big one out.”  His grey eyes, puffy and reddened, look over to Yuuri briefly, unsure of what to say to his best friend.

 

His words are broken with tears and terror as he mumbles, “Y-You guys are going to be late for practice, you have to go… “

 

Yuuri smiles, almost breaking out into laughter at hearing how he was still so concerned about the Grand Prix Final.  “Phichit, we’ll get our practice time in, we promise.”  He smiles back as much as he can while he grips the blanket.  The 25 year old looks to the Emergency Techs. “Wǒmen huì hé nǐ yīqǐ qù yīyuàn

Chris looks up, realizing in this situation, he’s not the translator anymore; though he had mastered three languages and was teetering on another, he’s where Celestino was on the ice in Paris, wanting to help but being unable to.  He’s not used to his.  “Yuuri, Christ, you speak Chinese?”

 

“By default of competition, all I know comes from a few language books.”  He listens to the medics, trying to understand and translate.  “Uh… Okay, they need to get his info from his last doctor sent to the hospital, can you call them?”

 

“I’m already on it, Chris!” Coach Karpisek looks to be talking on the phone, rushing off to the rental car with Celestino.

 

Yuuri climbs into the ambulance after the paramedic, and Chris jumps in after the two of them, not caring if the med tries to ask him to leave. He’s going no matter what, Phichit needs him.

 

 

 

The Thai man felt like his entire body had a heartbeat, his fingertips were slightly numb from gripping the blankets as he closed his eyes and tried to calm down.  It seemed like a lot of blood, but not knowing what too much was felt difficult to comprehend.  The towels on his wound were somehow helping, which is nice, but they feel soaked.  Going through this a second time is nowhere near as comforting though.  HE was thinking back on what went wrong, perhaps he had eaten too many solid foods, perhaps the flight seatbelt was too tight.  IT starts feeling harder to open his eyes, his sobbing quiets down, his hands lose their tremble, and he goes extremely quiet overall.

 

Yuuri is the first to notice, he reaches over to gently shake his arm, and there is no grimace of motion, just a loose limb that shifts without control. “Phichit? …. Oh god, he’s knocked out…”

 

Chris’ heart drops, and he notices the face go more relaxed than before, which concerns him to no end.  HE looks to the window to see if there’s any indication they’re close, though he doesn’t know the area and wouldn’t be able to see much.  Luckily, the ambulance rolls to a stop, and the doors start opening. 

 

Cold air felt wonderful on his skin, but he didn’t linger in the car as he climbs down with Yuuri, watching the two medics rolling the stretcher inside hurriedly.  _“What do I do? He’s out, did he lose too much blood? Is he sick? Oh god…”_   He glances to the side, where an even more panicked person stands.

 

Yuuri’s trembling, gripping the papers in his hands with tears in his eyes, whimpering as he looks around, unsure of what to do.  He looks lost as he starts walking in through the automatic doors and sees the front desk.  “Yuuri.”  He takes his sleeve with a clean hand, leading him over towards the desk. “This way.  Tell them his name and give them the file.  And ask for an English-speaking doctor or nurse to help us.”

 

Finally having a job that could help, the Japanese man lunges into super mode, translating exactly what Chris had asked as he looks around the hospital, trying to find which way the stretcher was taken.  The group of nurses that look at him as he translates get an understanding look, and start mumbling, looking around.  “Kim!” One calls, waving a young man over, “Zhè shì zuì hǎo de yīngyǔ fānyì zhī yī!”

 

The young man rushes over, noticing the different faces.  “Er… Hello! I am nurse Kim!”  What luck he happens to be readily available, Chris sighs and points to the Thai man on the stretcher being wheeled into a room.

“Thank you, thank you.  That man is our patient, he just lost some blood and passed out.  His name is Phichit Chulanont, and we need you to keep us informed how he is.” 

 

Nurse Kim frowns, “He passed out from loss of blood?”  There’s an answer to nod.  “Oh dear, I’m glad he’s here then!  You can wait upstairs, there’s no room in the Emergency room for too many visitors.  Follow the blue signs.”

 

“Chris!” He turns his head to see the coaches coming in, Celestino leads between them.  “Where is he? We need to talk to the doctors, Josef just got off the phone with Dr. D’rouge.”

 

Yuuri gestures to Nurse Kim.  “Talk to him, he’s going to be our temporary translator while we’re here. What happened?” Turning to face his old coach, he’s clutching his phone in case there’s any calls from worried best friend’s parents.  He assumes there must be some press about to form on this.  Yet Celestino walks away with Nurse Kim to explain the details.

 

Josef sighs and walks up to the two, who look worried enough.  “…. The doctor never cleared him to fly.”

 

“WHAT?”  The skaters chorus, in a combination of fear, anger, and shock.

 

“They said he didn’t even ask, or at least it was never translated; the original surgery forms are even signed with the note of no flying….”  Yuuri grimaces and covers his face.  “Yuuri?”

 

“That’s not like Phichit at all!”  He cries, getting upset again, his head spinning. “He wouldn’t disregard his health to come to China! Did he forget? Did he not understand?  The forms were in French, right?”

 

Chris sighs and rubs his temples, his own brain putting together the pieces with a reluctant answer.  “…I think I know what happened…” The two look up to him, and Josef soon realizes this as well. “I told him I wasn’t going to China if he wasn’t cleared to fly; he must have decided we were going whether he got it… or didn’t…”

 

To say it out loud, to hear himself come to the realization, it was as though someone stabbed into his chest and dragged the knife; ashamed, he can’t look into anyone’s eyes.  Yuuri must be furious with him, his coach must be disappointed.  It could have been avoided. This was his responsibility.

 

This was all his fault


	11. The one thing missing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chris thinks back on the past week, how it felt so much longer, how tired he was at the stress that took a swing at his emotions left and right. He had only been official with Phichit for… Four days now, and yet the strength in his feelings was overwhelming, how it felt so much deeper, like they’d been together for months. How long had it been since he cared for someone until it ached within him? Not since he was a teen with a childhood love, and it had been a long time.
> 
>  
> 
> The last kiss they shared was a soft bedtime kiss, one so simple as they lay in the blankets, yet it felt as powerful as the romantic evening dancing on the Eiffel tower; he’s aching to go back in time with him. He wants to go back to when the appendix problem began, beg Phichit to see a doctor, to have skating his last skate knowing it would be truly final.

 

 

Drifting to the lounge, they’re all amazingly inaudible, everyone stares at their feet with the frazzling day that’s just only begun.  While one and all take a seat, Chris paces, much more panic in him than the last time he was in this situation. _“I did this to him, without realizing it, I gave him an ultimatum.  I’m no better than Ivan.”_

 

“Chris…” Yuuri grimaces, saying something for the first time since they were told about the supposed clearing to fly downstairs.  “You didn’t do anything.  Phichit may really like you, but he didn’t risk his life for you to get a final skate, if I know him as well as I do, he’s better than that.”  His leg is bouncing anxiously.  “Unless your life was hanging in the balance, Phichit would have found some way to keep himself on the ground and you in China, without having to kill himself doing it.”  His brown eyes follow the Swiss man, seeing his vulnerability show through; it was rare to see, but he was slipping.

 

Though the Japanese competitor should have been angry, should have been upset at this, and he truly was.  Christophe was Phichit’s boyfriend for a few days, and what sounded like a take or die situation was absolutely stress induced and sounded like a situation he should be worried about.  Yet knowing the Thai man’s experiences, and how he dealt with people who were unhealthy for him to be around was more than enough proof that Chris was not at fault. 

 

“How do we know? What if he did it subconsciously?  He’s always caring for everyone else, it could have been a complete accident.”  His pacing doesn’t stop.  It was yet another form of proof, for Chris was so worried, it nearly split him in two.  When he runs his hands through his hair, it’s then when Yuuri gulps.

 

He gapes at his friend.  “Christophe, you should…. You should wash up…” He looks confused to the Japanese man, why that would even come up in this situation.  Those hazel eyes trail to his shirt and arm… Phichit’s blood.  It’s still there.

 

The way his stomach stirred, how the pain wrought his muscles as tight as can be, his heart stopping at the sight of what caused his beloved to pass out: his life was dripping red on his fingers. _“Oh….. Oh I’m going to be sick…”_  

 

Yuuri stands up, putting his phone in his pocket and walking over, taking him by the elbow.  “Let’s get you to the bathroom, you can borrow a shirt of mine when Victor gets here.”  Chris lets the young man lead him towards the bathroom, the situation makes his stomach churn.  As they step in, Yuuri gets some paper towel, stepping aside to allow him access to the sink.

 

The Swiss man walks up to the dim mirror, turning on the hot water and looking at the reflection, much more colorful than he wants it to be.  He was even more of a mess than he thought.  “Chris…. You can cry if you want.  You don’t need to hold your breath like that.”

 

Was he choking? He didn’t realize how scared he looked, nor how he clenched his teeth and restrained his breathing, the strain in his neck muscles relax when he takes a deep breath and starts washing away proof of horror.  Drops of red swirl into the drain, it seemed like it didn’t want to come off at first and he scrubs harshly at his arms, there was more than he expected.  He washes at his face, and runs the paper towel through his hair, though no matter how hard he scrubbed, it felt like this stain was tattooed for life.

 

It takes him about a half hour to clean up as much as he did, trying to give words of encouragement to the Japanese man, who was holding up as well as he could in this situation.  He can tell he’s trying to be a support team, when he needed it himself. 

 

Yuuri steps out when his phone pings, and he leaves the bathroom, only to return with a dark blue shirt.  “Here, you need to clean your chest off too, I’m sure.  I’ll get rid of that one for you.”  Chris nods and takes off the messy one, taking a paper towel to that as well, as it had certainly bled through.  He puts on the clean one, noticing a comfortable difference immediately.  “You ready to go in the waiting room again?”

 

“Yes.” He answers simply, running his fingers through his damp hair to make sure there wasn’t any red sticky texture.

 

When they emerge, clearer than before, but still holding the bloody red shirt in his hand, he’s met with the blue eyes of Victor, as well as many other shades that stare at him in the form of their competitors.  “Chris.” Victor starts, but is distracted by the red shirt. “…How….. how are you?”

 

“Fine.”  He says, rubbing his eyes with somewhat dry fingers, and as he walks in further to the seat his bag was on, he notices the coaches were all standing outside the doors talking quietly, eyeing him with pity. _“Phichit would be happy to know how popular he was.  He’d want to take a picture.”_

 

Yuuri sighs and turns to his fiancé, burying his face into his chest, Victor wraps his arms around the young man and squeezes with as much support as he can.  His shoulders bounce as he takes a choked breath in, and starts to sob against him.  “Let it out, Yuuri… Let it out…” He whispers.  “We can stay here today; we don’t need to practice; this is much more important.”

 

“None of us are going!” Minami squeaks from the corner.  “We’re gonna stay here! Phichit would do the same for all of us!”

Hesitantly, Yuri Plisetsky shrugs and nods. “Not like staying here all day will make much of a difference on who’s going to compete in the programs.  We can at least do stretches in the waiting room.” Though Yakov would grimace, he had learned a long time ago that fighting the Russian fairy was useless when he made up his mind.

 

The Japanese man sniffles, wiping his eyes tiredly. “Thank you everyone...” Though crying before a crowd was not usually his go-to, the supportive system was there for him.  “I-I need to call his sister.”

“No need, Yuuri.” Coach Celestino sets his phone down beside him as he sits down. “She isn’t picking up, but his parents and I have already talked… They’re up to date on the situation.”

 

All eyes seemed to go to Yuuri and himself, as they’re stuck to each other’s side to support one another, and he can see the sympathy before any words are said, as they had all stood to see them.  “Yuuri, do you want me to get you some tea?”  He needs to take care of someone, distract himself with something but stay in the hospital.

 

Victor holds out a cup to his fiancé, stopping them from going further at that.  “No need, Chris… I’m sorry, they didn’t have any coffee.  I know you’re picky on what tea you like.”

 

“It’s alright, Victor. We just need to be patient.”

 

His calm disposition was a façade, a brick wall that he hopes nobody can read.  He needs to be the strongest one in the room now.

 

 

Christophe has been staring at the same page for a long time, longer than he’d like, eyes trying to absorb the words and failing terribly.  He has been avoiding deep conversation, answering in his usual cool manner when conversation would turn his direction.  Those who know him could best hear the heavy weight that tugged on his heart as he tried to read.

 

Yuuri and Yuri did some basic leg stretches, using chairs to lean in.  Victor did some arm exercises with Minami, Emil, and Leo; the four played some gentle music to keep the air light.  The rest of them waited their turns to use the open floor area, as not to disturb the other visitors.  It was all anyone could do to pass the time.

 

“Yoooo!” A deep voice calls, carrying one giant box on top of another into the room, looking like he had hiked with them.  “Come get your drinks, folks! I found one of the only coffee shops anywhere remotely around, and I think I became their favorite customer.”  JJ strides in, setting them on an empty side table and pulling out two cups at a time, setting them down along with a store-bought bottle of creamer and some sugar packets he had pocketed.  “I think all of us need some pick-me-up.”

 

He walks over to Christophe, holding a cardboard cup out to him, hoping to mark as a form of truce after their last quip back in Paris.  The group all watches as they take their coffee cups and pass them around; the rivalry between the Swiss and Canadian was no secret, and there’s an expected snide comment to be heard.

 

“If you want,” The black-haired man says, “This can be that drink we were going to go out to have, you need to get something in you though.  You can’t stop taking care of you.”

 

Chris’ eyes for once see the man as something other than an annoying rival, and he takes a deep breath through the nose. “Thank you, JJ…”  He accepts the cup and holds it before him, not realizing how much he needed some caffeine.

 

Sitting down beside him in the empty chair Yuuri had left to go refill his tea, he offers some creamer, which is accepted with a pour into the cup.  “Has the doctor come in yet?

 

Chris stirs with a small straw, watching the creamy color seep into the dark brown.  “Not yet… It’s been three hours.” He mumbles, sipping at the hot drink; he was surprised at how calming it felt.  “His parents have been calling every hour, but nobody is telling us what’s going on, not since we brought him in.”

 

JJ nods, keeping a distance this time; he doesn’t try to hug him or joke around with his arm around his shoulder, he stays quiet.  Honestly, Chris couldn’t be happier, as any form of a hug might break the floodgates that he couldn’t handle right now.  He gulps down the coffee quickly, feeling it absorb into his bloodstream.

 

“Chulanont?”  A stray voice interrupts the concentrated training of the room filled with athletes, as the eyes fall upon a body in the doorway; everyone jumps to their feet. 

 

Nurse Kim looks to his side to see Christophe, the one he recognizes most.  “Ah! That’s us! What’s going on?” He nearly grips his cup, a little too hard as it bends, and he looks the nurse in the eyes desperately.  “Is Phichit alright?”

 

Yuuri walks over as well, just in case he’s needed for any more translation… And because he needs to know what’s going on with his best friend.  “You guys can breathe easy for now; he is currently stable.”  It’s like his gut emptied as he heard this, the anxious Japanese man is about to weep.  “However…. There is significant damage to his old surgery wound, and we think we understand how things happened, but it’s just a theory and no real answer.”

 

Chris gulps, nodding as he listens.  “is it…because of food? Or flying?” Coach Celestino inquires as he leans in, trying to get an update.  He’s searching for as much as he can to tell the parents of this dear patient.

 

“Our theory… er… well, when appendectomies are performed, air bubbles in the abdomen are used to assist the healing process and reduce irritation to the surgical wound…”  That’s slightly disturbing, the Italian coach shudders at the sound of it.  “When Mr. Chulanont went on the plane, cabin pressure may have caused to expand… more than he can handle.”

 

The theory made sense, but Christophe’s guilt was rising fast, and his hands begin to shake from the concern within him.  “Oh, oh god, I was right.” He didn’t mean to say out loud, his hand reaches up to rub his eyes with an anxious sigh.  “Where is he now? Can we see him?”

 

Nurse Kim sighs and shakes his head.  “There’s a part two to this… There’s more to worry about than the split wound.”

 

Yuuri gulps, stepping forward.  “W-What does that mean? What’s wrong with Phichit?”

 

“It seems as though he’s had an internal infection for a few days, one that may have been the cause for the pressure of the flight to have harmed him as much as it did.  We think his pain medicine reduced the discomfort enough that he didn’t notice until he was bleeding.”  The theory again seems logical.

 

Christophe’s voice is breaking, “Is he going to be alright?”  The room takes their gaze at him.  _That’s right, he’s dating the patient, isn’t he?_   The universal thought seeps in, and they begin to wonder how he’s not broken more than this now.

 

With a sigh, the nurse looks down to his notes.  “I can’t guarantee anything… He’s been in a procedure room for the past hour to clean up the infection, and he’ll be getting out just about now.  But he’s most likely going to be asleep for a day or two on antibiotics while his body tries to recover from the blood loss.”  He flips a page up.  “He had lost almost 40% of his body’s blood by the time we got to him, which is a lot, and recovery is going to be exhausting.  If this all goes well, cleaning up the infection and the body reacting well to everything, he should be alright.  But it’s all up to how he handles it.”

 

He hates not having a clear answer and a guaranteed outcome, especially since something new came into the mix; it explains how he still seemed in pain while his stitches were removed, why he was suddenly okay with taking his pain medication, the days where he slept nine out of every ten hours.

 

Celestino pulls his phone out to start dialing the worried parents, stepping out with the information fresh in mind while Yuuri grips onto his lover’s sleeve. “Oh my god, I’m just so glad to hear he’s alive right now…”  Victor gladly squeezes his arms around him, swaying him just gently in a comforting rhythm.

 

“When can we see him?” Christophe gulps, he needs proof his boyfriend is alive right now. He needs to see for certainty there’s a way to hear his voice again or touch his soft fingers, or look into his lively eyes. 

 

“It will probably be a few hours before we’re sure on that, he’s going to be very tired when he comes to, and as I said, it might be a day or two when he awakens.  It all depends on how his body reacts to everything.”

 

It sounded like there was hope, and the Swiss skater sighs with a deep pain in his heart.  “Thank you, Nurse Kim, thank you, thank you…” The nurse nods his head and steps out with the paperwork for Coach Celestino.

 

Yuuri throws his arms around Chris, “oh god, it sounds like he’s going to be okay…” The blond man hugs him back, with a hollow feeling in his chest.  It wasn’t his lover, but he didn’t realize this situation left him touch starved, and he embraces tightly.  Slowly, each skater begins hugging as well, trying to take care of that feeling, everyone in relief that their Thai counterpart was alive and in a treatment plan.  The lump of athletes is still, but there’s some speculation on if there was a Swiss man choking back tears quietly in the center of it all.

 

 

 

Everyone began to head out, knowing there’s not much they can do if their rival isn’t going to be waking up for possibly two days; on the way out, they all make sure numbers are exchanged to each coach and friend.  Updates are demanded, a few pictures are taken to show the support that came for the comatose Thai skater.  Each one hugs Chris, individually this time, and Yuuri states he’s going to try to sleep in one of the chairs to pass the time. 

 

Celestino walks in after a hearty phone call, looking a bit more relieved to not be on it any longer.  “Chris… You look tired, I think you should go get something to eat, get hydrated.” He’s surprised at the instruction, expecting his coach to have said something.  However, he seems to be on the phone himself trying to diffuse some sort of situation.

 

Chris wonders if he looks upset, he must, because even Yuuri is giving him a look of sympathy.  He takes a draw of breath through his nostrils, then tosses his empty coffee cup in the trash can, the cardboard cup had been bent around from his nervous squeezing.  “Thank you, I’ll go get something from the cafeteria.”

 

Following the sign for food were simple enough when he didn’t understand Chinese.  His head was more wrapped around trying to understand what all had happened today, how 24 hours prior, he was working on his routine delicately.  Everything had become backwards since the became a caretaker, not that he minded at all, in fact, he adored it.

 

Chris thinks back on the past week, how it felt so much longer, how tired he was at the stress that took a swing at his emotions left and right.  He had only been official with Phichit for… Four days now, and yet the strength in his feelings was overwhelming, how it felt so much deeper, like they’d been together for months.  How long had it been since he cared for someone until it ached within him? Not since he was a teen with a childhood love, and it had been a long time.

 

The last kiss they shared was a soft bedtime kiss, one so simple as they lay in the blankets, yet it felt as powerful as the romantic evening dancing on the Eiffel tower; he’s aching to go back in time with him.  He wants to go back to when the appendix problem began, beg Phichit to see a doctor, to have skating his last skate knowing it would be truly final.

 

He didn’t even realize he’d taken a tray of food and paid, he’s just looking for a seat to take so he can eat, his stomach growling with a needy tone.  Sitting down, he takes a bite of some rice and veggies, staring down to his phone as if Phichit would text him something sassy, and how he wished he would.

 

_I would say you had a cute butt if your ass was upstairs with me, hurry up_

 

He snickers a bit to himself as he thinks of what else he might say.

 

_Help me, I need someone to laugh at my bad interpretations of this Chinese TV show_

 

A bit louder this time, his laughter indicates he could even hear the tone, he’s got it down pat.

 

Before Chris can come up with another quip, he hears his phone buzzing, looking down to what appears to be his mother’s picture.  It must be early in the morning there, what is she doing calling at this hour? He picks up.  “Hello? Maman?”

 

“Christophe!” She gasps. “Oh, dear heavens, you’re okay!” 

 

He’s confused, as he finishes his last mouthful of food and stands with his tray to take to the dish bins. “Yes… I am, why?  What’s wrong?”

 

“Oh, Sweetie, the neighbors called me saying people on the news saw you drenched in blood! What in god’s name happened?”

 

Oh, fuck.  The press had gotten pictures of that brutal scene? Phichit’s parents were barely just notified, and his sister was nowhere to be found; who knows if she had even heard anything?  “Phichit… He’s…. In the hospital, again.  I’m not sure if he’s going to be okay quite yet.” She gasps.  “I can’t believe the press has pictures, how? There was barely anyone at the hotel!”

 

“It looks like some famous news station.  It was in the parking lot outside of a building, honey… anyone could have missed them in your situation.”  She was right, he was purely focused on his boyfriend; he barely knew about the blood on his arm until Yuuri had coaxed him to go wash it off. “Chris, baby, promise me you’ll take care of yourself today; you forget to do that when you’re stressed.”

 

“I won’t, maman…” He mumbles. “I’ll text you, but I’m going to try to see if I can get in touch with his sister before she sees the photos.”

“I love you, Chris.  Give Phichit my love too!”

 

“I will, I love you too, goodnight.”

 

 

There was social media stalking for what feels like forever with no luck of finding Dao, she became elusive.  Though Phichit did mention she works at a hospital, which takes up hours of shifts, she could be on a ridiculously long shift.  He’s called Phichit’s parents, who are thanking him endlessly for taking such good care of their boy, yet he still knows nothing but to thank them for their son and how strong he’s being. 

 

It had been nine hours at the hospital, Yuuri was asleep against Victor, their hands were entwined and relaxed beside one another.  Josef was keeping tabs on the media, talking with Celestino about how there were supposed crowds outside the hospital, and that security was taking remarkable measures to keep them there.  What a blessing for Chris’ patience as he’s not sure he won’t hold back from slugging a journalist for taking pictures of his weak lover.  Paris was so overwhelming to Celestino, who writes notes with the other coach, of what to say if the press does arrive. 

 

The silence started feeling unbearable, the tick of the clock just barely quieter than their huffs of breath and their gentle whispers.  The familiar bustle of the outside hall was familiar to what it was like in Paris, the universal sound of Hospitals was uncanny.  The nurses that pushed at wheelchairs, the radio calls over the intercom, the murmur of patients who were coming in and out of the floor, and the mumble of one of those voices is a woman running with the exclamation, “Chulanont!”

 

Everyone in the room stirs at that, even the slumbering Japanese man who sits up, as if it were an alarm to get up for the day.  Yuuri looks around at the glances and then stands to go to the doorway. “….Oh my god, Dao!”

 

Christophe stands, watching the young Thai woman run over, throwing her arms around Yuuri with a sigh of relief. “Oh, finally, a familiar face!” The force of the hug nearly knocks him off his feet as the suitcase in her hand weighs them both down.  The next in line for hugs is Coach Celestino, and she drops her multiple bags, including a large paper one, in a chair that had sat empty.  “I’m going to kick his stupid butt for giving all of us cardiac arrest, where is he?”  She walks over and wraps her arms around Christophe as well, to his surprise.

 

Despite never meeting him in person, she wanted to comfort him.  It doesn’t mean he’s not still stunned to see her there, she must know all about the incident.  “Uh… We’re waiting on results from his procedure, his wound split open because it was infected, but… I think that’s all we know.”

 

She looks exhausted, sitting down beside him and pulling the paper bag onto her lap.  “Good.  They’re probably seeing how his body’s reacting to meds probably, after losing that much blood, he probably went into shock.  I wonder if they gave him a transfusion.”

 

Yuuri looks almost relieved.  “Dao, you have no idea how happy we are to see you.  We’ve been trying to get in touch with you for hours.”

 

“Yeah, I know. I’m sorry for not picking up, I knew I’d get a million people trying to talk to me at once.  Is anyone hungry? I brought some Jianbing from a streetcar with a ton of good reviews.”  The moment the bag opens and the scent of delicious Chinese breakfast crepes hits the air, they’re reminded of the feeling of hunger that urges them to nod.

 

Celestino smiles and bows his head gratefully. “Yes, we are… I haven’t seen you in a few years, how is school?”

 

“Oh, I’m graduating this summer, and I’ve been offered a job to start literally the next day.  I’ll hopefully be working to become lead cardiologist for the University Hospital.”

 

Chris smiles as he bites into the Chinese food.  Listening with satisfaction of seeing a member of his boyfriend’s family enthusiastically talking about her life, knowing it must run in the family.  “Anyway! Chris, I wanted to talk to you about all of this.”

 

_Oh boy._   “Please.”  He nods, allowing to accept how questions will be thrown to him. 

 

“Seriously, how are you not a mess?”  She asks first, “You are so much more enthusiastic than this.  The first time I met you, you were face crashing my brother on skype and made my parents nearly faint.  Where’s that spunky personality?”

 

That’s not as bad as he thought it would be. “… I’m sorry?”

 

“I hope you’re not one of those stoic guys who tries to seem cool by not crying.  Because Phichit’s like the most emotional guy I’ve ever known, and I know Yuuri Katsuki. No offense Yuuri.”

 

“None taken?” He raises an eyebrow from across the room with his mouth full.

 

Chris looks down at his hands and shakes his head. “I suppose I don’t know what to say.  I’m…. I mean, finding him this morning was more than I could have thought to handle.  I’m not sure how I’m honestly this put together… Please excuse me if I’m not as enthusiastic as I was before.”

She nods, she understands, and more than a lot of people really would.  “Okay. Okay.  Just want to make sure… My mom and dad are glad you were there for him, especially considering if he was in his own room as he planned before, something worse could have happened.”

 

The Swiss man hadn’t thought of that, for a day he had forgotten that if this situation were any different, if Phichit’s bleeding had begun after he left for practice just an hour later, the poor man would be in the hospital room, scared and lifeless.  “…. You may not think much of me for saying, but… It’s something I needed to hear.”

 

“Of course… Are you going to go practice in the morning?  I’ll be here to take care of Phichit, so you can focus.”  Chris had forgotten for a moment he was a skater, that he came to China to win gold before he would retire.  Now none of that mattered, he didn’t want to leave the hospital doors in fear he would be leaving as the Thai man woke up.

 

Coach Karpisek sees his face change, and leans forward gently.  “We haven’t talked about it, but whatever Chris chooses will be what’s best, and all of us will support him in that.”

 

Dao nods and sits back, watching the air grow silent again, though she’s not usually one to allow that.  “… You know, Phcihit talks about you all the time, even before you started dating.”

 

The hazel eyes widen in surprise. “….Oh?  What did he happen to say?” His smirk begins to return, the genuine one that they hadn’t seen since the day before.

 

“Oh, just something like he thought your blond curls were cute, but you’d look really nice in your natural hair color. And how tall you were… Oh! And she always talked about how funny you are, said you could make anything into a joke if you needed to!”  She giggles, it lights up the whole room.  She was positively the sister of Phichit Chulanont.  “And how he couldn’t wait to see you at the next competition.”

 

He’s not even sure he should be hearing this, but he starts laughing, covering his face with his big hands and peeking through the fingers. “Oh my god, he didn’t.”

 

“Oh! Yes! Look like whatever he cooked up worked, here you are being his boyfriend.  Go Phichit!” 

 

Josef peeks over his glasses at that, then back to the Swiss man.  “You know…. Chris wasn’t terribly secretive about his feelings for him either. You should hear some of the things they would say to each other, and they’ve been doing it for the past three years!”

 

“Two!” Chris states, hoping to justify it somehow, only to make the room break out into solid laughter. “Oh, you guys are too mean to me!”

 

“Excuse me!” Their attention is hailed, stolen to the door to see Nurse Kim with a smile on his face. “I don’t mean to interrupt, but I have some changes I want to notify you guys of!”  He nods politely at the new face that has occupied the waiting room.  Celestino jumps up first, more than excited to hear something different.  “Mr. Chulanont is doing well on his antibiotics and is resting easy.  I think it’s safe to say you can see him briefly while he sleeps!”

 

Chris thought he was going to cry at the words, it wasn’t a full sentence saying Phichit was cured, but it was hope.  “Oh my god, we can go up?  Is he going to wake up at any time?”

 

The Nurse holds up the paperwork for Celestino, who begins to fill out what he can understand.  “he hasn’t woken up, nor do I think he will for that same day or two I said before, but you can go up and see him for a moment.  It’s a bit late, and usually we don’t allow visitors, but you’ve all been waiting a long time.”

 

Dao smiles and stands up, the relief was noticeable. “I suggest everyone stay quiet regardless of how soon he’ll wake up, at least let him rest.”  She mentions.  “Many times, those who are out on drugs can hear everything you’re saying!”  She nudges Christophe, who smiles down to her.

 

“I suppose I’ll have to withhold my flirting towards him for another time then! He needs rest, not to sass me back in his sleep.”  He chuckles, thinking about how excited he was to finally have results.

 

Yuuri leads the group, the most excited it seems to be able to see his friend as Nurse Kim takes them down a long hall, seeming to take them to a completely different ward.  It seemed warmer this way, much less urgent than the waiting room they were all itching to get out of.  It was quiet, other than sounds of machines beeping, and their footsteps.  “This is a recovery ward, so I do ask you all to stay quiet and remember where this room is, as the nurses are very busy here to make sure everyone’s resting well.”

 

Walking into a door way, Chris takes a deep breath, anxious to see proof his lover was alright; and being the tallest of them all, he sees the young man passed out flat on the bed, attached to the machines.  Phichit’s eyes were dark in rings around his tired eyes, his lips were chapped from tubes and air that hit against his face, and he looked colorless compared to his usual disposition.  Yet his sweet face was at peace, resting as he so desperately needed; Chris wasn’t sure if he had ever seen a more tired looking Chulanont.  Every color of life was either screamed out, bled out, or sweated out in the past 24 hours, and all he wanted to do was to put it back. _“Oh, Chaton…”_

 

Dao was the quietest among them as she rushes to his side, taking his hand and squeezing, whispering Thai words to her brother softly.  Yuuri come up beside her and puts his hand on her shoulder as he looks to his friend. “Phichit, you have no idea how glad we are you’re okay…” He mumbles, half expecting the young man to answer somehow, yet he remains silent in his comatose sleep.  “You’d better stay in China until a doctor actually clears you, I’m serious.” He says in a joking tone, Victor holds his other hand supportively.

 

Chris was overwhelmed with emotion; he didn’t know how badly he needed to see this sight of Phichit breathing, the heart monitor beeping, seeing his face so tired.  His shoulders shudder as he tries to hold in his noises that need to weep with happiness and anxiety that Phichit is here and is recovering.

Josef nudges the Swiss skater. “Chris…”  He whispers, “Are you okay?”

 

The group looks over to him as they catch a glimpse of his reddened eyes, flooding with tears as his hand covers his mouth, yet holding his breath just makes it harder to hide it.  Josef can count on one hand the number of times he’d seen Chris this vulnerable in the entire span of twelve years he had known him, and Victor sweeps in to hold him.  The floodgates have been broken, and there’s no holding back now; he feels like sobbing this hard could make him drop to his knees and scream.  For the sake of other patients, he does not, he just accepts the gentle hugs that come in one by one stilling his shaking body. 

 

His eyes stay on his boyfriend, for what a way to find you’re in _love_ , then crying in happiness that they’re alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Easter, have some crying!


	12. Tulips

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The darkness of the outside fades to sunlight over the course of hours, and as he had the rink to himself and his coach, they catch up on all he lost. Christophe preferred losing skating time rather than the one he loved, the one he loved, it was good to think this way again. He didn’t even care Phichit may not feel the same way; his boyfriend was alive, and that’s what ran through his head as he skated today.

 

_Thud. Thud. Thud._   The knock stirs Coach Karpisek awake, almost familiar to the dreaded screaming the day before had alarmed him to.  He stands from his bed with a quick hop in his step, rushing over to open the door.  Christophe has his bag over his shoulder, a determined look on his face as he stands beside Dao in the hallway.  “….Dao? Chris?”

 

“I’m surprised, Coach.  I’d expect after a day off, you’d have me exercising in my sleep, yet here I am, awake before you change out of your pajamas, you’re slipping~”

 

Josef blinks twice, he wasn’t sure he expected the Swiss skater to want to do anything after a day like yesterday.  “Chris… Are you sure? Are you going to be alright?

 

Dao fixes her sunflower headband and jogs in place in her workout clothes.  “Please! He needs the training if he’s going to beat me in a jog to the hospital.”

 

Celestino runs up behind them in his own workout gear, “Ciao-Ciao!” He stops before the door. “Josef, don’t you want to join us on a 4am run? It’ll really get the blood rushing!”  They groan at his terminology. “Right, too soon.”

 

The Swiss coach looks proud, and he raises an eyebrow. “Ah…”  He leans down by the door to get his sneakers, looking back up to the doorway. “I love the smell of napalm in the morning!”

 

Strange things happen when someone falls in love, and as the cold air hits his face, the four in a line as they jog the city sidewalks so early, he thinks about those feelings.  He had to kiss his lover today before he left for practice, it was a determination he knew would set him straight for the whole program run through.  There was a need to tell him the moment he would see him awake, to drop to his knees and confess it, and he can barely contain himself.

 

Their jog uphill to the hospital left them all out of breath, but refreshed and awake. As they slow down, stretching their legs, the coaches look less enthused than the younger pair as they lean against the bricks of the sturdy building. Celestino huffs and rolls his shoulders. “I could 5k’s two years ago, now I can’t even run a block, what the hell is this?”

 

Josef snickers and joins him with catching his breath.  “We’re old, it’s not rocket science, Ciao-Ciao.”

 

Dao starts laughing at that, nudging the Italian coach as she’d gotten someone else to call him that.

 

Phichit doesn’t look like he’s moved in the hours they had left him, but that was expected in his condition.  Though Chris was quiet, he was in a much better mood than his sobbing lovestruck self that visited the night before; and as he walks in, he pulls his backpack off. The dedicated boyfriend of the Thai skater had packed him some things to take care of him: Lip balm, a sweater, his makeup bag, phone and charger, lotion, and a get-well card.

 

Big sister glances over as he starts pulling it all to make sure he was alright, starting with the balm on his dried-up lips.  She smirks with a smile Chris recognizes only by the association of the patient between them. “Oh, what’s this look?”

 

“Nothing, it’s just super cute is all.  Phichit’s never had someone to take care of him instead of the other way around.”

 

Chris wonders if she ever knew about Ivan, or if she didn’t count him after that manipulative relationship; that’s Phichit’s personal business, and he told his lover in trust.  It’s best not to bring it up.  “Well, I want to make sure when he wakes up, he’ll be comfortable.”

 

She sits beside the bed and looks to his IV points, they looked like they were functioning and there wasn’t that much blood stained around the entry points. “He’s in good hands, having you with him as you are… At first, my family was wary about you, as you’ve had a reputation for…. Some interesting performances.”

 

He’s not sure if he should blush at that or not, or be concerned. “Yes, I’ve always been very open about that part of my life, and Phichit’s aware.  Is your family…. Alright with that?”

 

“Well, now that you saved my little brother from bleeding out in a hotel room, yes! Just don’t burn down the house and treat him right, and they’ll love you to the end of time!”

 

With a chuckle, Christophe looks down to his dear boyfriend, leaning in to kiss his cheek. “I’d never hurt someone I love.”

 

 

 

 

The rink was opened to the Swiss man as soon as he got there, his blades were on, his music playing in his earbuds, and programs fresh in his mind.  It seemed this way was working for him, taking a day off in between practices to keep his body limber, as it was not a spry teenager who could withstand falls and trips as easily as before. 

 

The darkness of the outside fades to sunlight over the course of hours, and as he had the rink to himself and his coach, they catch up on all he lost.  Christophe preferred losing skating time rather than the one he loved, the one he loved, it was good to think this way again.  He didn’t even care Phichit may not feel the same way; his boyfriend was alive, and that’s what ran through his head as he skated today.

 

Skaters who carpooled together walked in to see Christophe in the peak of his performance; his strong hands stroke against his body as he listens to his music in the form of pure passion.  A few stop stretching to watch in amazement that he’s even back today.  Victor sees his friend and smiles to himself as he crosses his arms. “Oh look, I see the ice is wet again… Chris must be back.”

 

Yuri shudders his blonde hair about in the air as he grimaces. “Great.  I’m so glad we get to skate all over that bullshit.”

 

“Yes!” Calls Coach Karpisek. “I have to say, that might have been your best spread eagle!”

 

The Swiss skater pants, stretching his legs with a gentle swing of each one.  He notices the competition has showed up from the corner of his eye, and he takes out his headphones. “Good morning everyone!” One lazy glide later, the 27-year-old stops before them, arms crossed and a smile on his face. “I bet you can guess why I’m so happy today! Phichit is doing well!”  There’s a cheer among the skaters, and their coaches as well. “We saw him this morning, he’s comatose for the time being, but we expect him to wake up in a day or two, so long as the medicine does its job!”

 

Yuuri smiles and squeezes Victor’s hand excited, as they stopped by as well, leaving flowers and balloons for him.

 

“Should we visit him?” Emil asks, smiling bright per usual. “Or do you want us to sign a card?”

 

“Oh, both if you can!”  Yuuri calls between them.  “But call for visiting hours, his sister is there with him, I believe in the recovery ward and they don’t like too many visitors at once.”

 

“But for now~” Christophe smirks, staring them all down. “Get ready to practice your little hearts out~ You’ve got competition~”

 

 

 

Dao Chulanont sits in the hospital room packed with flowers, her unconscious brother beside her in a slumber deeper than the ocean, and she was reading beside him with her books piled on her lap due to the lack of space.  She had an essay to write for a professor to boost her current scholarship, and being in a hospital setting was surprisingly inspirational.  As her pen scribbled on her notebook, she sat curled up in her hospital chair facing the door, in case any nurses or visitors came in.

 

Occasionally, a flower delivery service would stop in to present gifts, balloons, bouquets, plush stuffed animals, and even chocolate.  Of course, it would all sit there waiting for the patient to awaken, and she would sign for mostly everything in anticipation of such moment.  She was even taking selfies with the visitors to make an album for Phichit so he could see who came to visit.  Today she had run out of places to put mostly everything, and it’s why she fumbles with the pile of homework.

 

Some clicking footsteps walk in the door, a balloon in one hand, and a bouquet of pink tulips in the other, a card sticking out form them as he glances about the room.  He looks fancier than everyone else who had come by, wearing a business suit and monk strap shoes.  When she looks up from her book, she smiles and closes them immediately. “Hello!” Standing and setting her things down, she steps forward. “Are you here for Phichit Chulanont?”

 

“Ah! Yes!” He looks over her shoulder, noticing how the man is completely out. “… Should I keep it down? I can come back when he’s awake.”

 

“Hm?” She glances over, he’s still in the same spot he was a few hours ago. “Nah. He’s doped up from all the trauma, he couldn’t hear the end of the world if it came.”  Dao holds her hands out. “Though, I like the tulips! Everyone keeps sending white flowers as if he died, it’s nice to see some pretty colors.  He loves colorful things.”

 

“Oh! I know!” The suited man gently passes the flowers over and chuckles. “What are they thinking?”

 

The loving sister goes over to the windowsill and tries to scoot a few boxes of chocolate to the side so she may place the bouquet down carefully. “Right? He’s going to think he’s at his own funeral when he wakes up.”  She pulls out her phone and turns over to face him again. “Now! I’m making an album of his visitors so he can enjoy them in the future, something for when he wakes up.  I need you to pose!”

 

He holds his hands up. “Ah! How fun!” With a chuckle, he shakes his head. “Although I’m a bit camera shy, I came on my lunch break and I have to head right back to the rink.  Will you tell him I said hello?”

 

“Sure! Sure!  What’s your name?”

 

“Ivan.”

 

 

 

 

Phichit’s thoughts were cloudy, but his sleep was deep without dreams.  Some noises shifted his rest, yet it was never for long; he would drop off a metaphorical cliff back into slumber.  He was sore, aware of the feeling of stitches in his abdomen once more, and the weary daze his memories and considerations swam in.

 

Words flow in from the outside world from time to time, some from familiar voices, others from nurses or doctors, most of them were muffled.  One time, he thought he could hear his big sister laughing, which was almost heartbreaking, it made him homesick.  Perhaps he was thinking back on memories to get himself to revisit home when he was better rested.

 

Mom took him leaving the hardest, at least she showed it, crying every time she saw him on skype after he left following high school.  Graduating early with a scholarship and practicing for the Olympics was something most parents dream of for their kids, but she missed her baby boy before he ever closed the door behind him.

 

Dad was a big kid, he’s 100% sure he and his sister became balls of sunshine because of him; and he’s always wanted the world and more for his kids.  How he never made them feel weak or unsettled by something he said, how he was never afraid to go talk to them.  When Phichit first came out as gay, he even wanted to throw a huge “I’m so gay” party for him to prove his support.  Thank heavens that was settled for a movie night.

 

Dao was his best friend in the world, though he’d never say it to Yuuri, they were different.  She taught him how to do nearly everything, even when they were little and started skating together after watching the Skater and the King.  When he moved to Detroit, she visited the first week to teach him how to live by himself.  She taught him how to clip coupons and change locks, how to use public laundry, decorating without fire hazard, meal prep, and even helped him make a schedule to water the plants.

 

_He missed them so much._

 

Not to mention his cousins and aunts and uncles who always wrote to him, how he would be famous for rushing to the nearest tourist spot to get as many post cards as he could to send to them.  He’d personalize each card too, sign them and kiss them before dumping them in the mailbox.  Ask any time, he could tell you their addresses by heart.  It was getting harder to rest as he worries about sending them more from where he is in Beijing.

 

A saxophone seems to come into his thoughts for some reason, some jazzy tune that reminds him of someone else he cares about: Christophe Giacometti.  He was lucky enough to feel so cared for by the Swiss man, who adores him so much to make sure he’s happy and healthy.  With a smile, he’s been so accepting to that help, while feeling guilty the poor friend had to step in to begin with.  Yet he’s eternally grateful, how could he not be?

 

He almost died twice in the past two weeks, yet where he is today being a happy place, with the people he cared about.

 

_Is that music getting clearer?_   Phichit could feel himself waking up, and it was much harder than he thought it would be, the pain he felt while comatose was bolder, and he was freezing.

 

Christophe hums as he plays the music on his phone, reading his book while he gently strokes the fingers of his beloved.  Dao listened to the tune herself while she fixed her makeup in the bathroom mirror, an eyeliner lover just like her little brother.  Celestino and Josef were playing cards over at the small table in the corner.

 

An audible gasp in the air stops them both from what they’re doing, knowing it’s not part of the music.  The two visitors look to each other, wondering if someone else might have made the noise, and then glance over to Phichit.  His mouth was open, and his eyes fluttered tiredly.  Chris beams ans rises to his feet, his book dropping in his chair. “Chaton?”  He whispers, squeezing his fingers.

 

“C-Cold…” He mumbles, trying to shift under his thin blanket, somehow the only words he can make out at this time.

 

He didn’t know how much someone’s voice could make him excited, and he jumps at the chance to listen. “Cold? Ah! Dao, where do they keep the heated blankets?”

 

Celestino hurdles out from the corner. “I’ll get it!”  He blasts outside, knowing where the machine is that heats those knitted blankets.  He had paced through these halls three times this evening, he’d better well know.

 

Dao smiles brighter than anyone in the room, and she leaps over to be at his bedside when he opens his eyes completely, which seems to be taking a moment as he tries to gather his bearings.  He pulls an arm up and rubs his eyes before he blinks those grey irises open.  “….. S-So bright…”

 

They chuckle quietly at that, and his sister squeezes his other hand. “Yeah, you’re going to be super tired for a bit, but it’s okay! We’re right here to help you!”

 

It’s then and only then he realizes his sister is there, Phichit’s eyes widen and he looks at his lovely sister, who’s all dressed up since she’s had nothing better to do in the hospital room. “… D- Dao?” He wants to throw his arms around her, but that ache stops him as he grunts, head plopping back against his pillow again. “Ooohhh… I thought I was done with this feeling…” He mumbles, it was difficult to get any clear words out, but each second it became easier.

 

“Heh…nope!” His sister smirks.  “I didn’t fly out here to watch you pop them again either!”

 

Coach Celestino walks in, holding a few blankets, throwing them both above the Thai boy who shudders in the change of temperature. “Well, stitches seem to happen when someone’s cut splits open!  Lay back and relax… You’re bound to be very sore if you do too much.”

 

He nods, pulling up some hot blankets to his chin and relaxing against his pillow.  “Hmn…. I’m so much dizzier than I was before…” He huffs, turning his head to look up between the small crowd of people around him, slightly overwhelmed at being awake suddenly.  “I’m really surprised I’m not sleepier though…”

 

“Well, you were out for two days, so I should hope not~” Chris chuckles.  “Every time we came to visit, you barely moved, but Dao did your makeup and I rubbed your feet and hands~”

 

“Two days?!” He squeals, getting them all riled up, holding their hands up to gesture him not to move so drastically.  “How? I feel like I’ve been asleep for an hour tops!”  There’s a gentle cough rising in his chest from not using his lungs that powerfully in the past few days, he rubs his throat.

 

Dao giggles at that and picks up a cup from his side tray on the bed, “Nah.”  She fixes her little beanie on her head. “You slept harder than anyone in the history of sleeping.  Yesterday someone ran through the hallway screaming about spiders at the top of his lungs and you didn’t even budge.  Though it was really funny!”

 

“We’ve come in every day to make sure you’re being taken care of before, after, and during practice.”  Josef smiles, he has a hamster plushie in his hands he picked up on one of their lunch breaks from skating.  He bounces it at him.

 

Chris gently strokes his face, which calms the Thai man down, he only just notices the balloons and flowers filling the room. “…. What the…. Who sent all these?”

 

“Everyone at the rink, and all the sponsors, and the Skating Association… Also, a few of the nurses brought some in as well, apparently, you were their favorite patient.”  Chris smiles. “I’m so glad to see you open your beautiful eyes again~ You scared me…”

 

Though it was an invitation to tease, Phichit frowns and grips his hand right back, closing his eyes as he squeezes his hand. “I really didn’t mean to… I don’t know what happened, I thought everything was fine…”

 

“You look overwhelmed…” Chris frowns at the grip that was shaking slightly, he sits down in the chair beside him and kisses his hand.  “Did you want to get some rest? We can talk later if you need to…”

 

He shakes his head and fumbles around a bit with his free hand for a remote to adjust the bed, his back was hurting a little. “I’m uncomfortable is all… I want to sit up so I can talk to everyone…” He rubs his eyes again, looking down at the IV’s that sat in his stiff right arm.

 

“I’ll ask the nurse if you can do that without hurting your stitches.”  Coach Josef smiles, stepping out from the room as they mingle.

 

Dao fluffs his pillow gently to allow him some comfort, and he takes a deep breath, looking between them all. “… Hey, are you practicing?” He looks up to Chris. “I thought you said you were, but I’m not really sure I heard it.”

 

“Yes!” He answers happily. “I’ve been going early so I can leave to see you in the afternoons.  Dao and I have become jogging buddies on the way here, and then Josef and I jog to the rink!”

 

Phichit smiles a bit more, Josef returns to get the remote to tilt the bed up, slowly he rises up against his cushions. “Ah! Thank you.” Turning his head to Chris, he reaches his hand out to hold it. “So you guys are getting along? That’s great!”

 

They entwine fingers as Dao talks. “Well, I had questions before and he seems to pass the big ol’ Chulanont date exam, so far so good!” She chuckles. “Plus, I can see why you were pretty much in love with him from the start, he’s definitely your type!”

 

The way his face grew hot and pink, he tenses up, and the heartrate monitor he was attached to began to beep. “DAO! COME ON!” He pouts, glaring to her. “We’ve been dating for….a week? Is that what the math is?”

 

“Just about, Chaton~” He smiles back, squeezing his hand. “She told me about all the cute things you like about me~ Like how funny I am~” He teases, leaning down to kiss his blushing cheek.  It doesn’t take long for the pouting Thai man to begin to giggle, gently swatting at him to stop kissing.

 

The coaches look to each other and chuckle, nudging Dao, perhaps it was time to give them some alone time. “We’re going to head downstairs to get some food, if you guys need anything, let us know.  We’ll get you some ice chips on the way back.” Celestino smiles, Dao glances over her shoulder to them.

 

With a twisted tone, her sisterly side comes out as she pokes fun.  “Might want to bring something anyway, they’re going to suck face like they’re starving when we leave anyway~” She scurries out with the coaches who hold back their snickering.

 

“Daaaaoooooo!” Phichit whines, “Let me suck face in peace.”

 

She sticks her tongue out as she prances out, Dao’s face is crumbled up in a snicker.

 

Christophe missed the tiniest whines from his lover, the little bits of tired hand holding, the feeling of his cheek on his lips.  All of it, and he’s glad he finally has some alone time with the Thai man, as he feels like he needs to talk to him.  “She’s being a sister, Phichit~ I’m sure you’re the same way to anyone she’s ever brought home.” He chuckles, sitting on the edge of the bed and squeezing his hand, pulling it up to kiss the fingers gently. “Besides… She’s right, isn’t she~?”

 

Phichit blinks and looks up, noticing the hazel eyes that narrowed in on him, and nearly melting at the famous gaze that won over hearts of many audience members.  “You’re bad for me, Christophe~”

 

“Yeah?” He smirks, remembering this conversation a few days prior. “Sometimes a little bad is pretty good~” Leaning forward, he kisses those lips with the heaviest heart he has ever felt in his sturdy broad chest, how it nearly stopped when they met together.  It almost ached to love him this much, to have missed the taste of kisses and running fingers through hair, and the feeling of their Eiffel tower romance all over again. 

 

Phichit didn’t realize how touch starved he was, how badly he needed to be held and pet and kissed, his lips needed biting and tongue; what a way to greet the world after passing out for a few days than to do it this way?  He shifts in his upright bed, leaning to the side to take the Swiss man’s face in his palms, huffing as they kiss gently…Much more so than usual.  Chris’ kisses feel…. different today for some reason.

 

When he grunts gently in the kiss, Chris pulls back immediately, looking down to his abdomen and back up to him carefully. “Don’t look so concerned!” He chuckles immediately to ease him. “I just… I think it’s silly to say, but these kisses are new ones~”  They left him out of breath, his chest rises and falls as he looks up to him with a blush across his cheeks.

 

“Same pair of lips~ New tricks? I’m so talented, while you were out I learned how to do this splendid thing with my tongue.  I’ll practice on you when you’re not on a heart monitor~” He jokes, his forehead pressed against the Thai man’s.

 

He carefully leans against that taller figure, his black-haired head resting against his shoulder while his smile beams between them.  “Heh… I missed you…”

 

“I missed you too…”

 

They were gently holding each other, just so happy to be together and awake, something that hasn’t been happening as of late.  “… How soon until the competition?”

 

“Two more days of practice… then it’s my last skate.

 

Phichit looks up, squeezing his hand again, the air seemed sad, and Christophe remembers he had never decided what to do with his life after he leaves behind the only one he’s ever known.  It seemed like so long ago since he first began, when his young eyes had first set upon the ice and he knew he would take it by storm one day.

 

“I wish I could watch you skate forever, Christophe…” Phichit mumbles, closing his eyes, not to sleep, just to relax.  “The ice is the one place in the world you look happiest…”

 

The Swiss man smiles gently, then strokes his face.  “I’d argue that’s being beside you, Chaton~” Glad he gets a giggle from that, he leans down to kiss his lips gently again, letting it linger as his heart flutters, and he ends it with a gentle nibble of lips. “You relax~” He whispers. “I’m going to go talk to the doctors, see what your food situation is for when we take you back to the hotel to take care of you.” A nod responds, and he steps out reluctantly into the hallway.

 

Christophe’s almost afraid when he leaves he’ll never be able to see that beautiful face again, though he knows it’s silly.  He’s protective is all.

 

He’s off to go think about his future.

 

Phichit smiles as he watches him leave from the corner of his eye, how the warmth was still absorbed into the sheets where he had left him.  His fingers trail against the edge of it just to try to keep warm as he had trouble with before; there was something special about the warmth someone else could give him.  _“Gosh…. He’s something special…”_   Grey eyes look to the flowers around him. _“Oh wow, there’s a lot of them here…”_  

 

There was a cute little arrangement of balloons as a bouquet, most of them were decorated with cartoon characters he recognized. _“Oh, Yuuri definitely gave me that one.”_   He chuckles at that, looking next to it where white roses sit in a vase. _“Aww… that’s romantic.  That’s gotta be from Chris or someone, it’s even got a little ribbon!”_   He can recognize which ones came from who, how the boxes of chocolate were written in Czech, must be from Emil.  Some balloons that gathered in the corner looked to be in Italian. Michele and Sara probably sent them together to show support of his injury.

 

The next group of flowers is… Unsettling to say the least.  They’re neat and tidy, the pink tulips were a familiar type of flower he used to receive many times over a series of months, tied with a light green ribbon and a card that stuck out the top.  He didn’t need to read the card to know where they’re from.  _"It.....It can't be."_


	13. The Day Before

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chris feels like he’s saved up all the anger in his life for that one moment, and he had missed his chance to expel it the way he’s been dreaming of all day. Though it was disappointing he didn’t get to say the hasty and hateful, it was enough, he had to follow his coach’s orders. A string of words echo behind him before he can step out. “We were in love, Mr. Giacometti.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Much shorter chapter than I normally do! I'm sorry! I've been having such writer's block because I'm super eager to start a new fanfiction!

 

Dao gawps at the flowers, disbelief in her eyes that such an innocent gesture with a worldwide gift was anything but sweet; and she was hideously fuming. “How long were you and Ivan together?” She queries, the pink tulips now taunting among such beautiful and pure hearted gifts.

 

“Ten months.” Phichit replies, enfolding onto Christophe’s hand and leaning against him.  Telling his sister was significant to him, as he had never revealed the hidden affiliation that has tormented within him for so long.

 

His boyfriend was a rock, his scowl at the vase was enough to set fire to the petals, teeth clenched to hold back words ready to spit out.  Never in his life did he believe he would despise someone like this, especially since they were a stranger to him, but he felt protective.  All he had boiling in his chest was burning, yet he let himself become calm, for the young lover to ask for support silently, he gave no hesitation.  “Are you alright, Chaton?”

 

Phichit was surprisingly the calmest in the room, as the coaches sat to the side with disturbed appearances on their faces.  He was a graceful dove amongst defensive lions. “Yes.”  Looking up, he keeps his head on the Swiss man. “Honestly, I’m more… Surprised than shaken.”

 

“Do you still have the pictures?” Josef asks, noticing how he kept observing to the cursed flowers; he stands up and stances between Phichit and them, figuring his round gut was enough to cover them.

 

“Yes. I take them with me when I travel, I just don’t know why he risked visiting when he knows that after three years of avoiding me for it.”

 

Dao scoffs, crossing her legs in her seat, like she couldn’t wait to stomp out the man who hurt her brother this way. “Isn’t it obvious?”  They turn their glances to her. “He’s petty about your happy new relationship, and he wants you to see him as an option again.  It’s what angry ex-lovers do.”  Her angry tone can barely be held back. “It’s the more abusive way of showing up to your ex’s wedding looking better than the groom; it’s meant to cause damage.  So you should send the checks and keep your promise, because he’ll keep testing how close he can get until you actually do it.”

 

Christophe hates to think he could possibly be the trigger for the American sponsor to get such an idea to visit, especially when his unconscious boyfriend was defenseless in his bed.  Though there was never any talk of violence in the relationship, it was not something he wanted to think about.  “I think that will be the best choice, Chaton, I really do.”

 

Phichit nods, though some fear cradled his heart as he realizes that safe leverage will be out of his life; then again, it also removes the burden of packing that folder everywhere he went, a constant reminder that he could lose his entire career for Thailand over one stupid relationship.  “I need to.”

 

Celestino pulls his phone out, getting some contacts pulled together. “And you can count on us to support you, you know the skaters will as well.” 

 

Christophe leans down, his forehead pressed to Phichit’s, the young man sighs, leaning up to kiss his nose.  “Aw~ Chaton~ What was that for?”

 

“I’m sorry that one week into our relationship, you watched me die twice and had to help me blackmail an ex boyfriend.” He muffles into the tall man’s shoulder. “I promise after this, it will be as drama free as I can make it.”

 

Christophe laughs, reaching a finger up to playfully tap the tip of his nose. “Phichit, I’m still here, aren’t I?  Of course there will be drama, have you seen me skate?”

 

Josef cracks up at that, looking to Celestino who tried to hold back his snorting from the serious air that was still in the room.  “Ciao-Ciao, have you ever wondered why these two haven’t dated sooner?”

 

“I figured they’ve been in love for years, and the appendix decided it was time to bring them together.

 

Phichit laughs, looking over at the coaches and then back to the flowers, feeling his tired arms hang from his shoulders.  “And yet none of you played matchmaker until recently…. What time do we leave tomorrow?”

 

Chris stands up gently, “Whenever they come in to clear you. I got us a new room at the hotel so you can rest there when I’m at practice.” When he moves, Phichit whines quietly as his source of warmth leaves his bed, but laying back against the pillows feels much better. “Get some sleep, love, I’ll stay here tonight.”

 

Coach Celestino shakes his head in protest. “Ah! No, you have practice bright and early tomorrow, I’ll stay tonight and we can try to leave for the hotel in the morning or by lunchtime.  You’ll see him when you’re done tomorrow!”

 

Among the four standing up to volunteer for staying the night, Phichit still has his eyes fixed on the flowers, a sour look on his face. “…Hey guys?” He interrupts, snagging the attention of everyone in the room.  “I…. I don’t think these flowers will all fit in the hotel room… I think there’s a better place for them… Do you think we can give them to the nurses in the hospital for being so good to us?”

 

Dao blinks and begins to cross her arms. “If I ever got flowers from a patient, I’m sure I’d cry! Of course! We’ll get a vase to every floor! There’s bound to be plenty!”

 

He didn’t know the nursing staff in the slightest, nor how to speak to them, but Phichit took to his wheelchair per the orders of the room guests, and holds vases on his lap as he’s rolled through the halls.  Each time he saw a nurse, he offered a flower that had not come with the vases from his deliveries.  They would gasp and hug him, saying words of endearing gratitude that he couldn’t understand, just nodding happily to them.  Nurses are hard workers, and he knows from seeing his sister work from the bottom to the top of her career, as well as watching the professionals who saved his life.  He appreciated every one of them.

 

Christophe gets his own share of hugs from the men and women who each take a flower, and yet he feels like he barely did anything.  He fixed some crude bows and pushed the wheelchair around the hallways, all while the person he cared about was giving away his little gifts that were meant for him.  The tulips were the first to go, and it was a form of peace that Phichit needed, to give tulips a better memory.

 

Under that glowing skin was pain, Chris could sense it, the fear of the note that remained unopened from Ivan was still back in Phichit’s room.  _“Is he really alright?  I mean, I saw him crying out of a nightmare about his ex about four days ago, and now he’s got flowers from him and says he’s alright.”_   Though he trusts his judgement, he wonders if he’s being spared from the true turmoil.  How can he not be worried?

 

“Chris!”  He snaps out of it, seeing to the Thai man who holds up four roses remaining just standing up briefly from the chair, a smile on his face that melted his thoughts away.  “I’ve got some flowers for my four favorite caretakers left! You get to pick yours!”

 

Celestino looks as if he’s about to cry, and he takes his own yellow rose graciously.  Josef laughs and accepts his flower. “Well, we’ve loved every part, except when you almost bled out on the bathroom floor, that wasn’t good.”

 

“What can I say? I like to put on a show!”

 

Phichit looks to his boyfriend and holds that last one out, his sweet smile made his round cheeks dimple just so gently.  Chris could feel his heart drop, falling in love all over again. “Oh, chaton~” He chuckles. _“Je l’aime tellement..”_   He plucks the rose up and leans down for a kiss, pecking each dimple on each cheek before placing one on his lips with a bouncing giggle from the shorter lover. “I couldn’t have asked for a better patient~”

 

 

 

 

Going to sleep that night was harder to do than it seemed; Phichit’s eyes couldn’t stay closed, they were staring out the window barely lit with stars freckled across the sky.  Coach Celestino was asleep in the chair by the door, so luckily, he wasn’t going to bug his patient.  However, watching him be so at peace, it’s almost annoying that he can be contorted in the hospital chair and be resting serenely.

 

Jealousy about sleep isn’t where his head lies, however.  Phichit’s thoughts are fixated on the unopened note from his ex-boyfriend.  He didn’t want to open it, but his curiosity was aching in his chest.  If he looked at it, he would regret ever seeing it, and feel the words burn his eyes for days on end, and if he didn’t, he would wonder his whole life.

 

Looking back, it was hard to see how he’d ever fallen for Ivan; there was a connection once, and he was happy being in those strong arms, but today was hard to ever think about a time when he wasn’t an asshole.  Everything within him turned spiteful when he tried to remember his first years in Detroit, which were wonderful despite the one man.  That one man ruined his recollections of his apartment, his first home away from home, his friendship was put in jeopardy because of him.

 

If there was any feeling Phichit didn’t have, it was hatred, and yet it burned in the ache of his throat as he holds back his emotions dryly.  He never used to hate before.

 

The abusive nature didn’t come all at once, it came in every conversation, an argument interrupted with a kiss and ignored.  It came in how every compliment was laced with something cruel that ended up hurting more than helping.  It felt like a drug was put in Phichit’s drink, and he didn’t realize it until the damage was already done, until he was so deep into it, he was suffocated.

 

Phichit didn’t see the red flags until he was already in love, and he ignored them because he knew Ivan loved him too.  Then the feeling of isolation came on very strong one day, and he realized how everyone around him was starting to disappear.  Yuuri was the only one who stayed close to the Thai man, warning him that Ivan was going through his phone to check his texts.  When he called the sponsor out, he was made to feel guilty, feeling guilt for wanting to be treated equal, to call his family without having to worry about sneaking around.

 

In a frustrated sigh, he sit’s up gently, adjusting his pillows and rubbing his sore abdomen with gentle fingers.  It’s no wonder he took so long to tell Christophe how he felt, he wanted to see how he acted, if there were any more red flags.  Yet every conversation left Phichit aglow, with a smile so wide, his cheeks ached.

 

His thoughts mellow out at the happiness that flowered in his chest when he thinks of the Swiss man; how healthy this relationship already was, how he felt like he was incapable of fearing him. 

 

Phichit’s own honeymoon struck smile was the only thing able to lull him to a peaceful mindset, his happy thoughts weren’t so happy lately. 

 

 

 

 

Christophe is doing his best not to get distracted at practice today; his eyes search the stands for the sponsor while he glides the rink, watching for a man he’s never seen before.  As if he’ll know his face immediately, he looks to the doors each time they open, the tension striking him like a whip each time.  There are sponsors lining the ice already, every one of them wears tags with company logos, maybe he can get close enough to read for a name.  Ivan’s not that common, right?

 

“Christophe!” Coach Karpisek shouts, “Are you even listening?”

 

The skater skids to a stop, looking over to the annoyed coach with his arms crossed. “Sorry, Coach. I got distracted.”

 

“No shit! You’ve been distracted all day, get over here!”  Slowly, he follows instruction to the voice at the side panels decorated with advertisements; his coach gives him a bottle of water. “What’s on your mind?  You can’t be worried about Phichit, they moved him to the hotel room and Dao’s taking care of him.  He’s been asleep since they got there!”

 

“I’m not worried, Josef.”  He looks around the rink, as if he were in enemy territory.  “I’m cautious… Now that I know that prick’s in Beijing, I can’t focus.”

 

With a sigh, the older man leans forward with an expression that remains scowled. “And then what? Call him out? Give him an opportunity to get under your skin?”  Christophe returns that scowl, he wanted to say awful things to that man, to threaten the American, but his coach was right.  “Christophe, if you really want to stick it to him, you’ll perform your best and you won’t play his game.  He manipulates people, and you’ve got one day before the competition.  Your _last_ competition.  Are you willing to throw it all away to spit at him?”

 

His chest fills with the cold air of the rink, hazel eyes looking back up to the bald man who knows him so well.  His gaze then goes out to the ice where the sponsors stand; each face watched the skaters, excited to see who has the most potential for this Grand Prix.  _Sip. Swish._   He takes a mouthful of water as he looks, eyes falling upon Yuuri and Victor amid their own practice.  He’s angry looking today, and his glare is fixated on the group of the sponsors.  Especially to one brown haired man in a suit.

 

“Chris, for god’s sake, will you look at me?”

 

Whirling around, abstracted once more, he groans. “I’m sorry, Josef… I…”  Grunt.  What a feeling that was so frustrating to get out, he tosses the empty bottle of water to the recycling bin near the rink side.  “… I love Phichit.”  A flabbergasted look on the coach’s face appears much softer than before. “I know it’s very early in the relationship, but I know I love him, and I’m going to do anything I can to make sure he’s happy.  It’s got me on edge.”

 

“Then win.”  He smirks. “Give it your all! Perform the only way you know and put everything out there on the ice. Don’t hold back.  No sponsor can do this, at least not like you.”

 

There’s a returned grin that appears among the russet stubble of his strong jawline.  “Phichit would hate me if I didn’t give it my all, wouldn’t he?”

 

“Until the day you die.”

 

“Fine, have another bottle ready for me. I’ve got an axel to work on.” He jolts for the open space in the middle of the rink, that scorching determination to palisade his final claim on the ice ablaze within him.

 

There was four more hours of hard practice, enough so that the Swiss man could feel his heart racing far after he was in the locker room, how his lungs felt so open from the exercise.  Christophe gathers his phone and charger from the corner, looking to see what messages he had missed while on the ice, Dao had sent a few selfies with her brother, two of them show him asleep while she makes peace symbols to the camera.  How adorable, he was relieved to know he was resting. 

 

** Me **

**How cute, take care of mon beaute <3**

Only to receive:

 

** Dao **

**Ew, gross XD**

At least Dao enjoyed his company, and it was no surprise to him, he was very charming and most families would fall in love with him immediately; yet the Chulanonts had barely met him.  He feels like the first time he will see them face-to-face, he’s going to receive all the hugs in the world, maybe a ton of food, and a warm bed to rest in.  He has their blessing to treat their son properly, and he intends to do so.

 

“You look good out there, Kid.”  A voice says behind him, though he’s not sure it’s for him; Chris was twenty seven and had passed the marker for being called a kid.  When he does look up, there stands the man Yuuri was glaring at while skating.

 

“Thank you.” He states plainly, tossing a bag’s strap over his shoulder and bending down for the next one. 

 

“Angst in sex… You choose strange themes if you don’t mind me saying.”

 

As Christophe leans down to lift the next, he glances to the tag hanging around this man’s neck, it gently rests between his blazer buttons enough he can see the name Ivan Novak.  Just as he suspected, this stranger was well known in his head, yet the face is new.

 

With his back straightening, he stands tall, his gaze settling upon the American with an unshaken expression he hopes looks as threatening as dominant.  “My themes aren’t what you came to talk to me about, Ivan.”

 

Though the past lover of Phichit looks a little surprised, he seems to continue without haltering the conversation. “You know who I am then.”

 

“Yes, and for both our sakes, this conversation is over before it begins.”  Crossing the room, he pats his sweatshirt down to be sure he can leave with a proper exit, without having to turn back for something important he would leave.  Luckily he’s free to reach for the handle.

 

Chris feels like he’s saved up all the anger in his life for that one moment, and he had missed his chance to expel it the way he’s been dreaming of all day.  Though it was disappointing he didn’t get to say the hasty and hateful, it was enough, he had to follow his coach’s orders.  A string of words echo behind him before he can step out. “We were in love, Mr. Giacometti.”

 

That stopped him, and the way it boiled beneath his skin was unbearable, like his blood was turned to red hot steam.  “… Being in love doesn’t excuse bad behavior, Mr. Novak.” 

 

It takes everything in his calm power not to spit at him, to turn around and question him of how his dirty mind ticked.  Yet, he continues out towards his coach who waits, only to see the expression meeting him is concern. “…. Christophe?  What’s wrong? You look pissed off.”

 

“Please take my bags to the hotel. I’m running to the hotel. I need it.”

 

Christophe had never felt this angry at a competition before, let alone at a human being.  Yet every word that was spoken was burned into his heart, like it was ruined for him.  The corrupted sentence, how he had said Phichit and him were in love, it was as though someone lit a house on fire because they adored it so much.  It didn’t make sense.

 

He loved Phichit, he knows he does, and he has been trying to say it for days now if it weren’t for Ivan trying to mess it all up.  _“I hope the checks were mailed out already.  I want to see him in handcuffs.  He's going to rot.”_


	14. Day one towards Gold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As he’s wheeled into the area, the Thai man is met with the roar of crowds; announcing in Chinese, he hears his name spoken in the booming words, as well as Christophe. The skaters stand, as well as the guests that have packed the seats, all screens show his surprised face that is greeted with a standing ovation. The press that all begins taking pictures around them get glimpses of the couple as world seems to be so excited to see them both at the competition. Chris looks down to him and squeezes his hand. “Look at that, they all think you’re as beautiful as I do~”

The light was on in the hotel room, he could see from beneath the crack, Christophe optimisms Phichit got plenty of rest and he wasn’t thinking too hard on all the matter that was happening with his ex.  The run had abetted quite a bit, and it brought the Swiss man back to his natural state of tranquil in the most worrisome situations.  He was once again the calmest of the bunch, the one with his head down to earth and his mind focused on the outcome that was to be. 

 

He notices Celestino and his own coach walking into their own rooms down the hall, looking quite happy with themselves.  The drop off of the pictures must have been successful, as they planned to get it all expedited to the CEO of the company who was in a holiday home not too far from Beijing.  There were other copies that were stored away safely in Phichit’s bag, just in case they needed to keep them.  “Celestino. Josef.”  He calls, getting their attention before they say their goodbyes and the door closes.

 

“Eh? Oh! Ciao-Ciao, Chris! How was your day?”

 

“It was miserable, but I wanted to know if you thought of that proposal you gave to me when we first started this whole ordeal; the one you talked to me about back in the hospital in Paris.”

 

The blonde man approaches the Italian, who thinks back on what he was talking about.  Josef blinks and looks between them as Ciao-Ciao realizes. “…. Oh! About your career after you’re done skating?”  He smiles, looking to his friend.

 

“Yes.  I think I’ve decided what I’m going to do for the rest of my life, but I need your help.”

 

 

 

Opening the door, he walks in to see Dao standing out on the balcony on the phone, pacing as it were.  Phichit is just walking out from the bathroom in some clean pajamas with a towel around his head to dry his black hair, grimacing a bit as his stretched reach.  “Oh! Be careful, Chaton, do you need some help?”

 

He jumps slightly at the new voice in the room, and after pulling the towel off his head, revealing a messy haired Thai man, he sighs in relief. “Oh gosh, Chris, it’s just you! You scared me!”  He giggles, leaning up to kiss his cheek.  “I’m alright, just reaching is harder this time around, I think my wound is bigger than it was before.  How was practice?”

 

“It was…. Tough but I managed.” The blonde man sighs happily at the kiss on his cheek.  “You’re dressing yourself a lot better than you were the last time, no backwards shirt or stringed out leggings.”

 

“I figured if I was going to be a lazy bum, I’ll use all the energy on meaningful stuff, not my boyfriend having to help me put on pants.”  He walks over to the suitcase, pulling out a button up sweatshirt to put on, as it was a bit chilly after getting out of the shower.

 

Christophe didn’t know how he seemed so energized, as when he left him this morning before their move from the hospital to the hotel, he was a sleepy lump in the back of the van.  Not even the sirens of the ambulance could have woken him up.  “Well, I’m glad you’re awake! Are you feeling up to dinner? There’s a restaurant downstairs, you wouldn’t have to get too terribly dressed up.  Or I could bring it up here.”

 

Phichit didn’t realize how excited he was now, his face lights up at the mention of getting out of this room for something other than going to the hospital.  “Yes! Yes! Let’s go out!”  He squeaks, going back to his suitcase for something more attractive than his hamster print pajama pants.  “Let’s have another date! Please?”

 

Oh, the enthusiasm of such a cute boy, all Chris can do is laugh and stand beside him in case he needs to help him with anything, though he looks to be doing just fine.  “Of course, Chaton~ So eager for a second date, I must have been an enjoyable first one!”

 

“Well, I’m not looking for another Eiffel Tower dance, but I’m looking for a nice evening the guy I L….” Phichit realizes he’s about to say something he would regret, and he clears his throat with a nonchalant, “the guy I like!”

 

Almost certain he heard something different, the Swiss man doesn’t press on it, as he knows tonight he’d like to express what he wants to say.  They’ve been friends for years, and together nonstop for two weeks, but there was something there he hasn’t felt as strongly as now.  “I’ll go get ready~ I need to take a shower~” Leaving a kiss on the younger man’s cheek, he steps into the bathroom to get washed up.

 

Watching him leave, Phichit sighs. _“Way to go, Phichit, you almost told him you loved him.  Do you even love him yet? Are you just too excited?”_   Though he can’t stop thinking about Christophe, he was determined to stay level headed, to not let himself fall too fast into love without thinking logically.  After one relationship of heartache, he wanted to be sure he was taking care of himself.

 

Dao walks in to see the pair putting on their shoes, looking quite dressed up for just sitting in a hotel room.  “Oh, what are you two up to?”

 

Phichit finishes and stands up carefully, a smile on his face that glows. “We’re going on a date! Just downstairs to the restaurant, we haven’t had one since last week and I think we could both use it.”  She smiles between the two of them, she thought they were so precious.  “How was mom and dad?”

 

“Oh, they’re fine! They’re excited to see you sometime soon.  But then I called your doctor and asked a few questions; did you want to go to the competition tomorrow to watch Chris perform?”

 

Christophe hadn’t realized that was even an option, he thought his lover would just be awaiting his return while resting in the hotel bed, cheering at the television on his pain medication. If he could see the young Thai man on the sidelines, to skate while performing for him, he’ll probably do better than practice.  “Oh, love, that would be wonderful if you could.  Do you think you would be up for it?”

 

“Of course!” He smiles brightly, “I mean, I’ll be dizzy and need to sit down for a bit! But I wanna cheer my boyfriend on!” Phichit sits down gently on the bed once more, his abdomen was slightly sore from all the excitement, but that can be fixed with them relaxing in the restaurant.  “Besides, if anything, they’ll have rent wheelchairs if I get too exhausted.”

 

“Good point, I hope that doesn’t happen.” Chris pecks his forehead and looks to Dao, “Did you need us to bring you anything to eat? You’ve been up here all day working your hardest to keep our little patient in the best health, you must need something.”

 

She smirks, shaking her head. “Nah, I got room service earlier. Besides, I’m looking forward to recharging my social battery, I need me time.”  Taking her purse over her shoulder, she grabs her room key and a cell phone charger from the wall. “You two go have a nice romantic evening, I’ll see you both in the morning to watch Christophe make Switzerland go nuts.”  With a giggle, she’s out of the room to leave the lovebirds be.

 

Phichit snickers and looks up to his boyfriend, who leans down to kiss his lips quietly, whispering in his accent, “I can’t wait to show off my beautiful Chaton~”

 

That was almost too much, but Phichit pulls him in to return the kiss, a gentle squeak between their lips, though neither party is sure who did it, or if both were so excited to touch they joined a moan. “…. Shall we?”

 

 

 

 

Chris has laughed so hard tonight, his near-sighted eyes have teared up to the point where his glasses kept fogging up as he rubbed his eyes beneath them.  Phichit’s stories always had some sort of kicker to them that would hit unexpectedly, and he’s learned more tonight about him than their first date had led on.  “Alright, alright, so after you and Yuuri danced in the strip club, that’s when you decided to become roomies?  I think it should have been the other way around, didn’t you know each other from the rink?”

 

“Well, at first, we didn’t really find anything to click on.  He’s such an introvert, and meeting new people makes him so incredibly nervous, so when we met at the club, we bonded over different pole dance positions we liked to do.”

 

“How on earth did it even begin?” He asks, stirring his pecan pork in a delicious sauce that sat on his plate, keeping his eyes on his lover. “The dancing I mean.”

 

“Oh, gosh… I had this dance instructor growing up who suggested using props when I dance would be a good way to strengthen my core, and then when I came to America, I tried it out.  Turns out I was really good at it, because someone hired me on the spot.  When Celestino found out, he made us both quit, but it was great to see the look on his face when he saw me at my apartment covered in glitter and walking around in one of my feather costumes by accident.  Yuuri had a matching one…”

 

That nearly made him choke at the thought of the young Thai man in some extravagant outfit, only for his coach to squeal in horror. “Merci, merci, merci, all day long, merci.”

 

“What about you? You pole danced at the banquet a few years back with Yuuri, any story behind that hidden talent?”  Phichit sips at his bisque, looking up to his boyfriend across the table.

 

Christophe takes a sip of water before answering.  “Simple, I just knew it would make me sexier, so I took classes.  I didn’t take it to the extent where I would be doing it for a means of living, however it did come in handy when that poor little friend of yours got wasted on champagne.”  He takes a bite of the pork, a sly smile on his face. “And if I’m not mistaken, that’s the night we really hit it off.”

 

There’s a silent ponder as Phichit tries to remember that night, as there was so much going on all at once. “… Oh! Oh, right! We woke up in the parking lot of that diner!  Did you ever figure out what happened to our pants?”

 

“Never. It’s a mystery, I’ll never get those slacks back apparently.”  He chuckles, looking down to his food. “I remember that’s when I first thought how beautiful you are, when we first woke up in the front seat of that rental.  You were curled up in the biggest shirt, I had no idea where you had gotten it.”  Phichit feels his face slinking into hot red, and it reaches to his ears. “And oh, goodness, how the moment you woke up, you were bright eyed and awake for the day.  I’ve never understood morning people.”

 

The Thai man laughs, wiping his mouth and leaning forward. “That’s the cutest damn thing I’ve ever heard, you watched me wake up?”  Chris shrugged at it, looking so nonchalantly cool at the other side of the table.

 

“It was…. Then I realized I had feelings for you.  The moment we were both awake, giggling like idiots in a rental car in Seoul, hungry for pancakes and unable to find our pants.”  Those grey eyes he’d grown to adore and long to see were just as filled with stars as the moment they met, only this time, he could drink in their adoration.  “Though it’s been a school boy crush for so long, these past two weeks have been filled with more than just taking care of you… I’ve known what to call it ever since I saw you after that incident a few days ago.  The moment I saw you alive, breathing, even if you were unconscious and pale and exhausted, I knew… I love you.”

 

The table was silent, and it seemed the restaurant had disappeared around them, the sound that was so muffled is now still and as anticipating as the reaction Chris waits for, as his hazel eyes don’t look away from the man he’s fallen for. “….C-Chris…..” He manages to gasp out, his chest was tight as he tried to construct what was happening.  His caretaker who was also his friend he’d had a crush on for so long, was telling him he loved him, and yet he can’t get the words out.  He wants to say he loves Christophe back, but he’s not sure if this is right, he’s not sure if this is too soon or if he needs to think about it.

 

The Swiss man smiles to him, holding out his hand. “Hey, Phichit.  It’s alright…. If you don’t feel the same way towards me quite yet, I understand.  I mean, I’m pretty surprised myself that you managed to have me fall in love in less than half a month; if I were you, I’d be bragging about it right now.” His little joke at least cracks a smile out of him, and as their fingers meet, he squeezes in a comforting fashion. “And it may be a long time before you’re ready to say it, I just know it’s fair you are aware, Chaton.  I love you.”

 

Phichit watches his Swiss lover’s smile, unfaltering as he mentions the possibility unequal feelings, and it makes him worry slightly.  “I… I’m pretty sure I love you too.”  That surprises the older man, eyes widening at the words. “I feel like it is, I really want to make sure before I say it out loud… But… I want to be super sure that’s what it is.”

 

“Take all the time you need, Phichit.  I promise you, I don’t have a wedding ring stashed away for you in my coat pocket with a ticking timer on it; I am here, and I will wait for you.”

 

Phichit’s heart flutters unlike he’s ever felt before, in a way that shakes his very backbone with its intensity.  This must be love, because even if it was familiar with a sour past, he’d known the feeling before.  This was brand new, it was exciting, the possibility of how he could confess this ran through his head before he can even fathom it.  For now, they sit with fingers entwined, looking to each other with blushing faces, loving words, and a background of featherlight music that seemed to return with the evening.

 

His darker fingers squeeze as he whispers gently. “… Ne me quitte pas.”  Getting a smile out of the Swiss, who pulls his hand up to kiss on the knuckles.

 

“Je ne vais pas, mon amour.”

 

 

 

 

The salt of the air, the powder that freckled in the arena during warm up, the clack of skates as athletes bounced up into graceful leaps; Phichit missed all that came with skating.  Rolling his wheelchair into the rink, Celestino looks down, noticing the dizzy yet enthralled pupil as he looks around in envy that he can’t be the one competing.  This was one of his favorite ice rinks to be at, as it was filled with memories of his first competitions and the friends he made along the way.

 

Dao walks behind them, having just gotten their ID tags Chris had organized for security clearance.  It was going to be much safer to be in a non-crowded clearing meant for the skaters and coaches, rather than to be jostled about by fans in the seating area.  “Okay, Ciao-Ciao, is there a plan for if we need to step out in case my little brother steals the spotlight again with medical nonsense?”  She taunts to Phichit.

 

“”No, I won’t!” He argued. “Besides, the passes are a ticket to nearly every door in this place! Not like you need an escape route!”

 

“They might need an escape route away from you!” Yuuri appears before him in his dark blue japan jacket, smiling down to him. “You’re going to be the loudest fan out there per usual.”

 

Phichit gasps, looking to his white lace pants. “Yuuri! Your costume looks even better in person!” He admires the bodysuit, as it matched the ‘wedding’ theme perfectly. “I had no idea you’d be wearing your wedding attire to the grand prix. Should we hide Victor’s gaze so he doesn’t see it before you guys get hitched?”

 

“Phichit! Come on, I’m going to look better in April during the real deal!” The trio start giggling as Victor approaches his fiancé, taking his hand to join in the conversation.  “Hey Vitya! Have you seen Christophe?”

 

Just hearing the last sentence, he smiles. “Good morning, everyone!” They each greet happily. “Christophe? He’s in an interview right now, they pulled him into one of the alcoves to talk to him.  Big news station.”

 

Celestino sighs and looks to Dao. “Well! No use in us staying out here, why don’t we head over to the skater’s area? Before it gets crowded? He’ll see us there when he’s done.”

 

 

Christophe has finally stepped away from the press, heading into the hallway towards the lobby to see if the security clearance tags have been picked up.  He has kept his eyes on crowds, the feeling of being watched was itching at his skin; he knew who it was.  Yet he’s having trouble finding time to care.  He has two days of competition left and Ivan most likely has the same amount of days being employed. So why spend time thinking of it?  Josef walks beside him.

 

His hazel gaze falls upon the familiar group walking into the hallway, and a grin creeps onto his face, he had it bad.  Slowly he walks over. “My lover, my best friend, his best friend, sister, and coach all walk into an ice rink; everyone should be afraid.”

 

Phichit smiles, looking up from his chair excitedly as he sees the Swiss man come forward in a cool fashion. “Hey! Look at you! You look amazing!”

 

“So do all of you.” He gestures to the dressy group.

 

Phichit was wearing matching Swiss colors just for his boyfriend, as well as a Thai flag scarf to tie everything together.  Dao was in her floral dress and fleece purple leggings, signature matching beanie, and her fingers were decked in big colorful rings.  Celestino was in a business suit, looking quite proud of the Swiss skater. “So? Did you make your announcement?”

 

“Yes, Josef and I just finished our interview and we should be able to see it soon.” 

 

Phichit looks between his coach and his lover, a sneaky peer in his eyes. “… Are you two plotting?” They chuckle, and attention pulls over to the television right beside them, as the news reel cuts to a video of him sitting with a news crew and translator, as his coach stands behind him proudly.

 

“Just watch, Chaton~”

 

**“So, Christophe, aside from the talk of your theme, and your relationship with the famed Thai skater Phichit Chulanont, have you thought of life after you retire from the ice?”  The translator asks for the reporter.**

**Chris smiles and nods his head, looking over his shoulder at Coach Karpisek, who pats his shoulder and squeezes it. “Yes. I have.  After careful discussion with my  coach, who is also retiring this eyar, I have decided to take apprenticeship under Coach Celestino Cialdini to be a coach, and assistant choreographer for his skating club.  Coach Josef Karpisek inspired me to be one, to move forward with everything I love about the ice, and now I want to make him proud.”**

**“You already make me very proud, Christophe.”**

**“You know what I mean, coach.”**

 

Phichit gasps, whipping his head to the tall man beside him. “CHRIS! That’s great! When did this happen?”

 

He laughs a bit to himself, amused at the excitement the group seems to have. “When you were first in the hospital, Celestino planted the seed in my head.”

 

“He came to me after practice yesterday and the three of us talked about it, Josef was near in tears when he told him how he was inspired. It was very emotional.” Celestino pats Coach Karpisek’s shoulder supportively, though the bald man’s eyes are already red with choked back tears. “We’re very proud.”

 

Chris sighs happily, stepping over to put a hand on the older man’s shoulder. “I’m very proud as well, you’re all so good to me, but I couldn’t have made it this far without my coach.” Oh boy, that broke the dam, and he’s wrapped in an immediate hug from his mentor. “Aw, Coach, getting the waterworks so easily, you’re slipping!”

 

Josef sniffles, his glasses now crooked on his face as he pats his back. “ Christophe, you’re the son I wish I had. You’re always welcome in my family.”

 

“I know, I know. As far as I’m concerned, we’ve been family all along.”

 

 _Aaaawwww_.  The surrounding parties all croon.  “Don’t get it wrong, Phichit.” His dear Ciao-Ciao looks down. “I’m still your coach, but I’m training him to be part of the club. I won’t be having him coach due to a conflict of interests.”

 

“I wouldn’t expect it!”

 

“Alright kids!” Dao claps her hands together, clearing her throat as she has also been moved as much as the rest of the tearful bunch. “Come on, the show’s about to start, and Chris is the only one that should be crying on the ice.” She points to him. “You had a lot of angst happen to you these few weeks, so you gotta think about that shit, get yourself all sad and stuff.”

 

Phichit wipes his own eyes, luckily he had not damaged his sharp eyeliner with such a touching moment, and he was still the prettiest man in the room. “Right.” Chris chuckles, letting go of his coach, then reaching his hand down to hold Phichit’s. “Are we ready?” With a consecutive nod, everyone begins out the curtain to the skater’s entrance.

 

As he’s wheeled into the area, the Thai man is met with the roar of crowds; announcing in Chinese, he hears his name spoken in the booming words, as well as Christophe.  The skaters stand, as well as the guests that have packed the seats, all screens show his surprised face that is greeted with a standing ovation.  The press that all begins taking pictures around them get glimpses of the couple as world seems to be so excited to see them both at the competition.  Chris looks down to him and squeezes his hand. “Look at that, they all think you’re as beautiful as I do~”

 

“Nope, that applause is about how my hero saved the day~”

 

“If I clap for you two, can you stop being so fucking gross?”  The Russian kitten swoops in from the curtain as well, his comment made them both laugh

 

Jean-Jacques Leroy steps over with a smile. “Chris! We’re all talking about how happy we are for you, coaching is going to be a fantastic match for you, big guy!” His strong arm wraps around the Swiss man’s shoulders, shaking him playfully. “I’ll have to bring my daughter to you when she’s ready to start skating!”

 

Chris rolls his eyes, a half smile on his face. “You make it sound like she’s going to be born with skates on, I don’t think Isabella will be happy with you when that happens.” The skaters around are still surprised, as they all expected to have at least some sort of feisty words happen.

 

Amazing what two weeks of fear and an even bigger asshole can do to change one’s thoughts on a competitor, though he still has a nonchalant image to uphold.  Phichit giggles as the two playfully banter about the competition, sitting back in his wheelchair to relax, watching as the skaters begin to pour onto the ice for the warm up skate.

 

The routines were filled with excitement this year, everyone was going out, and it showed in every spandex costume that matched their themes.  The music was boisterous and triumphant, slow and flittery, hot and passionate, the entire spectrum was available.

 

Yuuri finishes his routine on one knee in a touching story of romance, where he describes his excitement to spend the rest of his life with his beloved.  The crowd is tearing up in joy at his short program, and they rise to their feet; Chris doesn’t have to look over to Victor to know he’s proudly crying. This will be a very wet day.

 

“Aw… Gosh, Victor must really make Yuuri happy, he’s never looked so in love to skate than he does this year.” Phichit grins. “He deserves all the love in the world.”

 

“And he has it with Victor.”  Chris smiles, turning to shed his Switzerland Jacket, draping it over Phichit’s shoulders. “Could I trouble you for a good luck kiss?”

 

He didn’t need to ask twice, as he’s pulled down for a smooch, the pair can’t help but giggle between the nibble of their lips, and… a tongue that slips in, dancing with the taller one’s. “Hmmn~ You’re eager to please today~”

 

“Just getting you ready to sex the ice up~” Those Greyeyes bat at him with a flirtatious glance. “Don’t forget to think of me out there~” When he bites his lip, Chris just about melts, but he holds his casual composure.

 

“How can I not~?  You’re irresistible, love~” Chris stands up, looking to his coach, who is signaling him that it’s time to go on. “I’ll see you when I get off the ice.”

 

“Knowing your past with skating, I’ll be seeing you get off in more ways than one.”

 

The Russian fairy grumbles at a distance at that. “Go skate, dammit!” He calls to both, who snicker away.

 

 

Christophe’s costume was a spandex tuxedo, his shirt was unbuttoned to his sternum, his bowtie untied around his neck hanging loosely as the tails of his coat flitter behind him carelessly.  Squeals of women in the arena straggle in the echo, and it throws the voices soon into silence as he makes his starting pose, hands together as if he was praying to the overhead lights.  A lonely piano, sad and slow takes the attention of the room, watching as he lightly spins in an ever growing program.

 

He closes his eyes, although he had a storyline in his head, all he could think about was how he had gotten here. Last month, he was considering what to do with his life, a crisis that led to a racing heart and a call to his favorite Russian to ease his fears.  Today he was in love, with a plan that wouldn’t tear him away from the world he had always been happy in.

 

It took pain to get here, and a two week journey he would never forget; he remembers greeting his friend who looked ike life had whipped his happiness into an abyss.  How he watched him crash onto the ice hard enough to bruise the side of his body, holding his hand on the way to the hospital, whispering sweet comfort to him.  The feeling of holding him to keep him warm while he recovered, how he shivered weakly after trying to cook a meal for the caretaker. That first kiss whirled them both into a world they would never have understood the strength of.

 

He almost lost him twice, and it almost thrusts him back into those fearful moments as he looks back.  The agonizing ticking of the clock in the hospital waiting room, watching blood drip down the drain of the sink, waking up to the desperate wail into the early morning, realizing he was in love with a man who was hooked up to three or four machines that were helping him stay alive.  It was enough to bring him back to that hollow feeling in his chest.

 

**“Another incredible performance from Christophe Giacometti!”**

 

Opening his wet eyes, Christophe realizes he’s on his knees, arms clutched around his torso, panting.  Was he still on the ice? He can’t remember if he had done his routine even, but he’s certainly getting a reaction from the audience as they weep to his program and stand up again.

 

He looks to Phichit, who is applauding him with a tearful smile, Dao is whooping and jumping in excitement as though she was channeling all the Chulanont energy into her cheering. 

 

Chris stands, waving to his fans, gliding towards the rinkside to meet Josef at the Kiss and Cry.

 

 

 

Chris had somehow, without even paying attention to his routine, broken his personal best score by three points, three full points.  Did he make all his jumps? Did he miss any steps? He doesn’t even know.  All he knows, is he’s on his way to the top. 

 

As the group begins the walk out to the car, Phichit squeezes his arm excitedly, hugging it to his chest. “Second place! On the first day! Christophe, you’re so close, and I’m so proud of you!”

 

“Be careful, Chaton~” He laughs, nudging him playfully. “Don’t break your stitches open again!  Even if all the angst in the world helped me today, I won’t need any fuel for you tomorrow. I’d like you to be there, not recovering from yet another surgery.”  Phichit chuckles, clinging to his sweetheart, leaning his head against that strong shoulder as they walk together.  “Do you still feel dizzy? Or did the wheelchair help?”

 

“It helped! I feel perfectly fine now!”

 

Phichit’s eyes graze at the parking lot’s horizon as they leave, it seems the press have backed off and stick around the edges of the building, just talking and taking stray pictures of the glowing rink.  He’s thankful they’re not bothering them, he’s tired of photographers today.  Instead, he wants to go to dinner, then cuddle up to his lover’s side and rub his feet and shoulders, maybe draw him a bath.  Anything to help, he wants to take care of him.

 

As they each chuckle at pictures from today’s events, his grey eyes lock onto the car, he feels his entire body solidify like concrete as they spot a familiar man leaning against the car.  Brown hair, a suit, a tag hanging from his neck.

 

Chris feels the grip on his sleeve harden, looking down, he sees that heart shaped face tensed, looking down to his feet with his breath held. “Chaton?”

 

“You had a great s how tonight, Mr.Giacometti.” He glares forward at the American accent.

 

Phichit’s hears pick up that voice immediately, and it’s just as clear as they day he left him, when he had gotten up the courage to finally take control of his own life again.  It was almost like feeling acid pump from his heart and through his veins as he hears it again; he’s burning from the inside out at this feeling.

 

Chris’s fists clenched hard, and as he’s about to open his mouth, Dao interrupts by stepping forward, crossing her arms.  “Yes, he did, can you move? We have a reservation we need to get to.” It at least reminded Christophe he shouldn’t say anything, and to drown out whatever the sponsor had to talk about.

 

Instead, he wraps an arm around Phichit protectively and leads him to the other side of the car.  If he fights this sponsor, he’ll most likely be disqualified from skating due to such violent behavior. “Phichit.” Ivan calls, which almost blisters Christophe’s nerves that he was trying to talk to him, it makes the Thai man stop in his tracks.  His fingers begin to shake, his chest tight and his lungs feel like they’re filled with sand, like every bad memory he had spent money on therapy to forget was rushing back.  He doesn’t look up. “… We should catch up sometime.” The words sound so innocent, but they can all tell how it cuts into him. “I miss you.”

 

That’s the last straw.  Phichit sinks into the backseat of the van trying to hold back the terror in his face as Christophe closes the door, he’s going to teach that petty American a lesson.  As he rounds the car quickly, Josef puts a hand on his chest to stop him. “Chris!”

 

Though it seems like someone’s already beat him to the punch, literally.

 

His hazel eyes look up just in time to see the short woman beside them all, in her beautiful floral dress and bright purple leggings, jewelry that shimmers around her neck and on her fingers, with her fist swinging hard into Ivan’s face center fold. Her bright rings that are so colorful collide into his skin, and the tall man is brought down by a 5’5 young lady who has had enough.  When he thumps onto the ground, his face is bloodied from the scratches of the bejeweled fist, his head doesn’t hit the pavement, yet he grunts and hisses sharply at it.  Her pink high heels click as she stands over, one rises and presses down onto his chest that heaves from getting the wind knocked out of him. “AND YOU FUCKING STAY THERE.” She growls, pressing the shoe down harder. “And if I catch you near my little brother ever again, I’ve got sharper rings than this that you’re going to be spitting out for years to come.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I heard a request for someone to kick Ivan's ass?
> 
> You're welcome my lovelies!
> 
> And I think I might have helped myself get out of writers block for now! Though I'm not sure exactly how I'll write the next part, hopefully it won't be too difficult~~~~~


	15. Perhaps it will be alright

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What is going on with him today?” He tilts his head, starting over to the coffeepot to refill his Styrofoam cup. “No, you were quiet as can be, barely stirred until I left the bed.” Phichit grunts, Christophe frowns and sets his cup down. “Phichit, are you alright? You seem like you’re sore. Did something happen with your wound?”

As Dao stands, blood dripping from her hand, she releases her shoe off the terrified Ivan, who takes this chance to stand up, running backwards at first to see if she would follow, then twists on his heels and books it for the front of the ice rink.  He was bolting towards the press.  It was then she realized how detrimental this was, how she was the sister of a famous person, and how someone could easily press charges on her for this. “…Get in the van.” She says over her shoulder.

 

Celestino swoops in, his arms gathering up each one as he guides them to the door, keeping their heads low and gesturing them to be quick. “Come on then, come on! It’ll be fine, let’s just get out of here.”

 

Phichit has his nose pressed against the window as he watched her take him down, and he must scoot over to make room for everyone. “Ow… ow… ow…”  Once she sits down, she looks to her hand and shakes it gently. “Uh…. Do we have napkins in here? Or someone have a spare towel?”  Looking around, she frowns worriedly. Chris, sitting between his lover and the woman, digs into the training bag to find a clean towel, managing a washcloth that hadn’t been covered in sweat. 

 

The car was quiet, and it stayed that way.  What was once a moment of love and celebration had turned into timid silence in their drive towards the hotel, with Dao nursing some bloodied knuckles, Phichit his own meditation of staring out the window, and Chris with bubbling anxiety of what had just occurred within a span of five minutes.

 

The Coaches sitting up front had no idea what to do or say, but Celestino keeps his eye on the mirror to watch his pupil, recognizing the symptoms of a bad relationship that resurfaced.  He’s been with the Thai man before with such emotional situations, and it was never any easier to calm him down.  He clears his throat, breaking the silence. “Dao, do you think you’ll need stitches on your knuckles? I don’t think sweat rags are going to do the trick, eh?”

 

“No.” She sighs, glancing over to her baby brother, trying to think of what could help him. Since she hasn’t been around him during that difficult time with a past lover, she had no idea what would help him in such a time of crisis. “… I feel like I got his teeth in my hand accidentally.”

 

“Well, you got his nose in your ring.” Chris mumbles, not realizing he had even said anything as it just slipped out.

 

They grow silent again at that, the car waiting for the frigid air to get something else to linger on.  Though there is a snicker coming from the short Thai man at that.  The small snicker turns into a full-on laugh that he covers his face for, shaking his head and looking beside him. “What part of that whole punch was an accident, Dao?” He hiccups between bouncing laughter, wiping his eyes from the wet tears.

 

Josef snorts as he turns down a street, joining in on the snickering; “It looked like an accident, don’t you think? I think she fell… and her fist fell into his face.”

 

Christophe nearly coughs up his water at that comment as he starts howling in the backseat, all five of them glad something’s changed in the air.  “And then she tried to do CPR on his chest with her heels…and while screaming the air at his face, it’s how you do it nowadays right?”

 

“Oh, you guys shut up!” Dao cackles in her seat beside Phichit, who’s tearing up from his laughter everyone joins in with.  “Listen, I was the safest person to punch the crap out of that guy.  I did you all a favor, I expect gifts to be delivered to me in forms of money or food, or attractive suitors.”

 

Phichit wheezes at that, putting a hand against his wound that was dressed carefully with gauze. “S-STOP YOU GUYS!” He can’t stop laughing now, and it’s the most beautiful sound in the world to Chris.

 

He may not have been able to show how protective he is over Phichit like he wanted to, but he made sure his Chaton was happy, and made sure he feels safe.  It took some help, but maybe things were going to be alright.

 

They park in the lot where the restaurant is, and look at the time.  They’re about a half hour late for their reservation. “… Phichit, do you want us to go in and get a table? Or are you going to be alright?” Josef turns his head to him. “It’s up to you, if you don’t want to be in public right now, that’s completely up to you.”

 

He takes a deep breath, looking at the window of the nice restaurant, and hearing his stomach growl. “…I want to enjoy a nice night with you guys.” He says, though he’s emotionally exhausted, and he looks to be. “Dao, you need some ice on that, do you think they’ll let us in while her knuckles look like this?”

 

“Oh, psh, I’ll tell them I fell down outside and I need some ice. We’ll be fine!  And no cops have come to arrest me, so Ivan must have been too much of a chicken shit to report me!”  Phichit smiles a bit, looking a little better than a few minutes’ prior. “Come on, let’s get you something to eat and celebrate Christophe’s second place.”

 

 

 

 

Two hours later, they were in Phichit’s hotel room, eating their quickly packed leftovers from the restaurant, all wearing pajamas, watching TV and gathered close as they tell stories.  Celestino was getting his long hair braided by Dao, and her hair by Phichit, while Chris sits with his lover in his lap running his own hands through the thick black silk.  In the braid train, Celestino looks over to Josef, who’s pouring himself another drink for the evening. “Josef, hey, do you want your hair braided too?” The Italian jokes to the bald one.

 

 _Glare_. “Celestino, in good time, that mess will fall out.”

 

“Wrong! The Cialdini hair never dies! Everyone in my family’s always had long beautiful hair far beyond the grave!” He chuckles, playfully chuckling as his thick braid swings over his shoulder, whipping him in the face. “Ow!”

 

Christophe snickers. “Oh, come now, Ciao-Ciao, that’s not fair, none of us could pull off the bald look so well as Coach Josef.”

 

“I could” Dao pipes. “I’d be cute as hell, too!” Phichit tugs her hair. “Hey! Don’t use my own tricks against me!”

 

Chris snickers as he watches them, the hotel phone begins to ring as the arguing starts to get giggly and he snickers. “Oh dear, now that’s probably the front desk asking us to keep it down, we must be making a ruckus.”  Picking up the receiver, he pulls it to his ear. “Oh, how do we say this in Chinese? Ni Hao?”

 

“Channel.  Six.”  The phoneline states, Victor’s on the other end with a tone much more stern and urgent than he normally leads on. “Hurry!”

 

Chris grabs the remote, holding the phone to his ear with his shoulder as he clicks through the channels. “Hey!” Josef calls, pouting as he rests in his chair he’d placed beside the bed. “That was just getting good, I thought I recognized a word!"

 

“Victor, you said six right? …. Victor?” The line is dead it seems, how strange.  As he changes the channel, the giggles of the room silence, the hotel phone falling to the bed uselessly.  “….. Ivan.” 

 

His expression on the screen is an overwhelmed one, much different than the calm state most of them had seen when they first met him.  There were some definitive black and blue cuts that were staining his once handsome face into a changed one.  He’s bloodied on his fancy suit from what they can see in his portrait photo that is being discussed on the news.

 

There’s a picture of him on the news, and Dao feels her heart sink.  Had he reported her for the violence? Was there a scene that was caught on camera?  Chris fumbles with the remote, trying to remember how to reset the subtitles to translate to English.

 

**“Sponsors of BlueSun Sports are shocked to find their executive sponsor, Ian Novak from America misusing funds of the company.  Issued an arrest warrant for fraud, Novak appeared in the nearest police station to report a crime that had taken place at the Beijing Capital Ice Arena, when officials recognized him from the information sent over from the CEO of the company.  An anonymous envelope with bank statements, checks, and pictures of the extortion were delivered to the company and with the information, it is estimated at a loss of 12,218,910 yen in the year 2015 alone…”**

Dao feels her lungs fill up with air once more, the words don’t go into detail of her own crime she had committed, her shoulders drop in relief as she covers her mouth with her hands. “Oh my god…. Oh my god, oh….oh my god!”

 

Celestino turns his head to Josef with a sigh of relief, holding his hand out with a smirk. “I’d say we did some good work! Anonymous, quick, and not a moment too soon, because Dao got to ruin his face in time for his mugshot!” The other coach laughs and shakes his hand with a grin.

 

“Phichit! Phichit!” Christophe chuckles. “You should send him some pink tulips while he’s in jail!”  Looking over to the spot the Thai man was before, it’s barren now, and as he looks around the room, the sound of the door shutting silences them out. “… Phichit?”

 

His sister stops hugging the coaches, looking over to Chris and back to the door. “… Is…. Is he okay? I thought he’d be happy about this!”

 

Celestino breaks away, looking to the worried young faces that were confused as to what to do.  He sighs and breaks away from the hugs, grabbing his shoes by the door. “I think I know where he went, I’ll go get him.”

 

“I’m coming with you.” Chris says, not bothering with shoes and socks.

 

 

 

Phichit was running as fast as he could without overstretching his abdominal muscles; he’s not even taking the elevator as it might take too long, his feet making padded noises as he runs.  His eyes were hot with tears, his head was dizzy from medication, and his heart was in a frenzy as he slams his hands against the door to the floor he was looking for.  The running slows as he pants, eyes searching for the right door number with choked breath, whimpering as he fumbles his steps.

 

A door swings open, Yuuri and Victor standing there as they both had come to worry of Phichit’s reaction to the news.  The Japanese man steps out. “Phichit.”

 

The moment the Thai skater sees his friend, he rushes over, burying his face into his shirt, his panting grunts turned to sobs immediately.  The two stumble down to the floor from the impact of the hug, and they hold tight as their legs entangle. Phichit is trembling at the fingers, his pajamas already wrinkling at the forceful squeezing, disregarding the stitches on his side.  Yuuri’s shirt has a hot wet spot against his shoulder as he entombs his face in, his chest crying as if he could never get it all out at one time, and he just rubs his back.

 

Christophe runs from the elevator with Celestino, the two stopping as soon as they see a pile of the skaters in a bone crushing embrace; each with a sigh of relief, they keep their distance. “Oh, thank god…”

 

“Ah… Just as I expected… The first person he wants to see after this is the one who was there with him from the start.” The coach steps over slowly, watching while keeping silent for them. Christophe crosses his arms to look at the Italian as he follows suit. “He will be alright, he is alright…. I promise.”

 

“Should….we leave them be?”

 

“Oh, he’ll be sore from running, I’d stick around to play knight on a white horse if I were you.”

 

He smiles at that, glad he can help as much as he can, even if it’s giving his lover distance while he expresses his emotions to his friend.

 

 

Christophe brushes his teeth back in the room less than a half hour later, looking in the mirror back towards the bed he’s been sharing with his patient, keeping a careful eye on him.  Though his chest was lightened with the elation of an abuser behind bars, he wants to be 100% sure the young man is okay.  _“He’s been through such a roller coaster of emotion, and one would expect him to be happy… But maybe he needs a chance to absorb the news. It’s shocking.”_   Spitting into the sink, he wipes his mouth with a towel and starts his stride in the room.  “Phichit, do you still want to come to the competition tomorrow?”

 

“What?” The young man looks up from his phone from where he lays on his back. “Of course, why wouldn’t I?”

 

“You seem…” Chris walks over and sits on his side of the bed. “…. Distant….”

 

Phichit sits up just slightly, unable to do so fully from his full sprint down the stairwell and a tackle of a full on muscular human being in the hallway.  He doesn’t state his pain, but he does not hide it.  “I’m just a little overwhelmed right now… For the first time in three years, I should feel a lot better, I should feel like I’m free… But the pain is still there.”

 

Christophe takes a pillow from his side to gently slide under his back, give him some support. “Oh my love…” His hand squeezes onto the smaller one. “Just because he’s behind bars doesn’t mean your bad memories go away, and it will feel very scary for a while… But that fear is less than.”  He lays down beside him so he’s facing him, Phichit rolls on his side carefully. “And I will do everything in my power to help you with that fear.”

 

Phichit’s glowing smile is exactly what he sought to see all night, and when it comes through, he struggles the urge to kiss him just to see it longer.  The Thai skater scoots over in the bed, curling up into his arms as they hold each other, a much different way than the friend downstairs. “I love you, Chaton~”

 

“Thank you so much, Chris…”

 

 

 

 

Christophe is the first awake in the morning, he drinks his coffee while standing before the window, watching the busy streets below gradually thicken with cars and people.  For once he had woken up before his alarm, which gave him more time to sit and relax, reflect on his life before the big event.  Phichit was grunting in his sleep, tossing and turning the past hour or so to try to get comfortable.  “Hmph.” He hears, looking over to his lover who is sitting up and rubbing his face.

 

“Good morning, love~ Aren’t you radiant this morning?”

 

“Heh… I’m fine, just…. A little restless…” He looks down, for some reason the young man is bashful. “Uh.. .Did I keep you up at all last night?” He clears his throat, not wanting to look him in the eye.

 

 _“What is going on with him today?”_   He tilts his head, starting over to the coffeepot to refill his Styrofoam cup.  “No, you were quiet as can be, barely stirred until I left the bed.”  Phichit grunts, Christophe frowns and sets his cup down. “Phichit, are you alright? You seem like you’re sore. Did something happen with your wound?”

 

He pulls his blanket up as the man approaches halfway across the room, it stops him in his tracks at that defensive motion. “NO! NO! I’m fine!” He clears his throat. “No, I just… uh…” There’s not much he can think about, other than how the confused face of his boyfriend is a new expression. “…. I’m sorry, Christophe… I just… I had a dirty dream, I… ahem… I just didn’t want to overstep a boundary. I’m going to take a shower.”

 

The pure delight on the Swiss man’s face was covered with a blush, and he puts his hands on his hips, humming with intrigue. “Now~ My little Minou~ no need to be embarrassed! I get them all the time! Was I in it?”

 

Phichit’s red on the neck and ears, fiddling with his blankets in his fingers. “… Maybe you were.” He clears his throat again, smiling just gently as he notices Christophe is not terribly bothered about dirty dreams while sharing a bed this early in the relationship.

 

“Ohohoho~ and humor me~ what was I doing?” With a muse in his voice, he saunters to his side of the bed, giving Phichit some space.”  His hips swing from side to side as he playfully dances in excitement. “Please~ Tell me if I’m not allowed to know, I’m a patient boy~”

 

The Thai man laughs, still blushing. “Well… you were kissing me…. And we were at the rink in Paris…. You were….” He looks slightly embarrassed.  The young man can dish it when it’s not getting detailed, yet when it comes to serious dirty talk, he hesitates.

 

“Go on~ I love hearing you talk~”

 

That makes Phichit smile slightly, he takes a deep breath. “You were… fingering me when we made out against the wall… And we were grinding against each other.”

 

His eyes bat at him, biting his lip as he thinks. _“Goodness, that pain medication does make dreams vivid~”_ He chuckles deep in his throat. “Such a dream~ You must have really been aching for it, though I can’t provide a rink~ But I can provide the fingers, and I can provide the tongue~”  His deep voice plays with the air, and as he speaks, he makes it a point to show how his tongue curls  behind his teeth.

 

The returned smirk and nod are shy, very unlike the young skater who takes a deep breath as he sits up onto his knees with a hum. “If…. If you want, I won’t object, Chris.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just so you guys know, any smut I do write in this (Which may just skip forward) I put in its own singular chapter so if you are uncomfortable with it, you may skip it!


	16. Making Love is just that

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> YO. I was so nervous about writing this

 

 _Peck_   “Phichit…” _Kiss._   “Are you absolutely certain?” _Smooch._   “You won’t be too sore if we do this?” Chris lightly kisses upon his skin, his ears and his cheeks and his lips in small nibbles. “I won’t mind if we just wait for a while until you’re recovered.”

 

The huffs that escaped his chest when he felt the teeth bite onto his earlobe were tottering, but come with a giggle. “I’ll be fine~ I’ll tell you if it’s too much for me, and if it is then we’ll stop and get ready for the competition, no whining from me.”  As the stubble ghosts across his neck, he can’t help but grunt thankfully.

 

“Oh boy~” Phichit can sense him smile against him. “You’re easy to please, Chaton~ I’ve barely gotten started and you’re trembling and hard, have you been aching for me?”

 

“Yes~” Phichit doesn’t hide the tent being pitched beneath his fuzzy pajama pants and long sweater, though his hands are wandering on their own.  His fingers slip under the soft hotel robe of the Swiss man, feeling his warm skin and how bumps rose as his short nails run just barely down his back.  He’s lucky his short arms allow him to reach down to the waistband of his pajama pants, slipping just scarcely under to tease.

 

With their faces meeting, lips become accustomed to dance when they’re this close together, and tongues like to join in after.  As they huff into the air between the bites and groans that come with the kissing and grinding, their hands explore the sensitive parts of each other.  “I should let you know, Chaton~ I switch between top and bottom~” 

 

“Then it’s fair for me to inform you, I put the power in power bottom.”  Chris can’t help but pull away his kisses to laugh, pressing his forehead down against the collar of his sweater. “What? It’s true!”  He giggles, his hands pull up from that waistband and he ruffles his hair a little.  “One time, I fucked myself on a guy so hard he couldn’t walk for a day!”

 

Sitting back, Chris unwraps his robe, his pants all that’s remaining as he stands with his muscular body on full display, he’s fully aware how sexy he can look. “Oh, I believe you~ It sounds like you~… Do you want to get undressed now or later, Minou~?”

 

Phichit glances over his muscles, then down to his sweater, then pulls the collar open to look down to his stitches and dressings must look; he’d nearly forgotten it may not look the best, though he’s usually on the highest level of confidence. “… Um…. Can I keep my sweater on?”

 

“Of course, you don’t have to ask permission, love~” Chris ascends, taking his pants off as he sports a sizable lump that sits heavily in his speedo; Phichit watches his every move with his eyes drawn there, biting his lip.  It doesn’t go unnoticed. “…. You look hungry for me~”

 

The Swiss man reaches over to his bag, pulling out from the front pocket is a small blue bottle of lube, and a box of condoms.  He then steps over to get paper towel by the desk they were using for napkins the night before. With a gulp, the Thai man responds by whipping his pajama pants across the room onto the chair, as he was eager.  Before he could even see if the other party had finished, he stands with a pink face, superman posed to present himself.  If he was going to tear off a bandaid, he wanted to do it quick, get the awkward feeling over with now while they’re still taking steps to the act.

 

“… Maybe you’re starved.”

 

“It was a really good dream, Christophe.”  Striding over, he pulls his tall lover down in a deep kiss, love poured into his mouth with a tongue, such an eager kiss.  Chris joins in on the ferocity, how they started biting at lips, how they wanted to swallow each other in the heat of the moment, filled with creaks against the bed as they fell to it; the Swiss is surprised at the needy digging of nails that don’t quite leave any marks.

 

Pulling away, he looks him over. “Be careful!”  He manages to moan as the young skater gently rolls him onto his back, mouth latched to his collarbone.  “You’ve still got stitches, let me take care of you instead, Phichit.”

 

Phichit opens his mouth to speak, but he finds a tender groan appears instead as the feeling of a bite on his shoulder, bound to leave a mark, shakes him to the core. Chris lowers to his lap, trailing some little kisses and nibbles on his way, satisfied at the reaction his teeth had caused, and he licks his lips with adoration as he gazes upon an already erect cock, a pearl of precum shining in the dim room’s light. His tongue finds its way to that tip, keen to taste how he makes Phichit feel.

 

A wave of overwhelming sensations come with the swirl of the pink tongue as the gentle stubble rubs against his groin, the young man shivers as his hand already runs through that blonde hair.  Chris’ head doesn’t need help as it bobs slowly, taunting the sensitivity that throbs against his tongue. _“Look at my little minou~ How he squirms~ I’ll bet he’ll be begging for more when I deepthroat him.”_   Slowly, he slides it through his lips to the hilt of the gentle black fuzz at the base of his dick, seeing how Phichit’s thighs squeeze together excitedly, he can taste the leaking droplets of cum that slowly pulses from him.  Pulling his mouth off, gulping the small amount that lingered against the back of his mouth. “You’re so easy to please~” He licks for good measure to the side where it leaks.

 

The sight of Phichit with his flustered face was enough to make his own underwear tighten to him. “Chris…” He moans. “I-I want you…. I want to feel you finger me…”  His hand reaches to tug on Chris’ waistband. “A-And I want to be fucked.”

 

With a smile, Chris thinks back on previous lovers, how they’ve been eager like this before, and with a sigh, he nudges him. “My favorite~ Let me stretch you, I’m a little big, so I want you to be comfortable.” In all decency, he thinks about how perhaps they should be talking about this before starting, where limitations were, who would be on top.  Yet they’re doing well for spontaneous sex so far, wanting to prep each other and be sure they’re comfortable.

 

Phichit sits up, his sweater twisting on his hips from the way he writhed when Chris was blowing him before, he gestures beside him. “Come on~, sit down.” Following orders, the taller man smirks as he sits down beside him, only to get little pecks across his shoulders and chest. “Go on~” Kiss, kiss, kiss, “Stretch me~” Such tender feelings, yet as he sucks at his skin, he wonders if marks will sit on him this next competition.  Not that he minds, perhaps it will make his black costume with his exposed chest even more sultry.  Chris smirks, a power bottom telling him what to do, it was almost too cute.

 

He reaches over to the lube, starting to slick up a few fingers.  As he adjusts, Phichit crouches down, fingers lacing onto his waistband and kissing at his abs as he tries to undress him, his thumb stroking at the bulge that’s still covered. “Ngh… Phichit…” At that groan, how his hips shifted against his fingers, he finds his underwear thrown aside.

 

Chris’ own cock was half mast, but where it looked now, Phichit was glad he lubed up more than two fingers. “It looks delicious~ It’s amazing I haven’t seen it until now.” He jokes, “though I’ve seen you cum many times, almost seems unfair it’s taken so long for me to be the reason for it~”

 

“Who says this would be the first time~?” Though his words are interrupted as Phichit leans forward with the tip within his lips, humming as he tries to mimic the swirling tongue trick he received a moment ago.  Christophe’s hips gently grind up against the tongue as he feels it, grunting with a shudder. “Fuck, chaton~”

 

Chris was sitting up while this delicious man was on his knees, crouched down with his needy cheeks in the air, spread open and easy to reach with his long arm as he slides his sturdy hand between his cheeks to grope at him.  His fingers fiddle until he finds that tender entrance that tenses at the touch for just a moment, and as the bottom’s tongue is at work, he groans against him.  One strong, yet soft thrust later, his middle finger slides from the tip to the knuckle into his tightness.  How he moves his hips back against his hand made the Swiss man throb into the maw of his lover. “Fuck~ You’re so tight~ I can barely wait to be in you~”

 

He pulls and pushes at his hole, watching him writhe at the simplest curve of his finger, his groan as he lets his tongue sloppily dance against the girth in his mouth was amazing.  He’s so insatiable with just the one finger, for after a moment, those darker lips pop off the tip, which then bounces against his mouth being free from his tongue’s play.  “Another~” Phichit moans, going back down to taste as much as he can, a gagging noise fills the air.  What a noise.  Chris is more than happy to oblige with another finger to slip into him, as he watches the hips shake, the younger man’s groan hums onto his shaft.

 

Slowly, he rolls back against his partner’s hand once more as he feels the filling of another thick finger within him, slower than with the first finger, but exhilarated with the feeling.  “That’s it~” Christophe growls, watching his fingers delve into him, getting faster as Phichit pushes back against him. “Such a beautiful man I have~” Three fingers should be perfect for this praised lover, he wonders if he should even try with it as he watches him unravel.  Yet if he holds back, he won’t be getting comfortable with the girth that he hungrily takes.  “Does my beauty want more~?”

 

“Mmnn…” He squeaks as he slides his lips up, glancing up with blushing cheeks, nodding his head with a look of drunken passion.

 

“Anything for you~”  It takes a moment of prodding with his ring finger, a thought of if they may need more lube, and a few grunts from the bottom, but the last finger slicks into him once they get on the right track; his legs are shaking as if he’s already been wrecked.  “Is this alright? Is it too much, Chaton?”

 

The air is quiet, and Phichit has paused as he takes a moment to get used to the feeling that’s so overwhelming to him. “mmn…..”

 

“What? Phichit, tap my leg if you need me to stop.”  His hazel eyes search for that hesitation further, but he instead hears his lover’s gasps as he lets go of him.

 

“N-No, it’s okay, just give me a second before you start moving your fingers…” He shakily speaks, Phichit huffs a moment. “Y-You’ve got big fingers compared to mine…”

 

With a chuckle, the Swiss smiles, keeping still and whispering words to him of encouragement. “You get used to this~ It’s alright, just let me know when you’re ready to have me move~”

 

It was less than two minutes when Phichit whispers, “Okay, go ahead.”  Chris awaits just another moment, then gently starts to pump those three fingers into him with a deep, yet soft rhythm.  How he melted at his touch was incredible, and Chris watched as his lover shook, gripping the sleeves of his sweater.  “Ooohhh god….” He whimpers, pushing his hips back against his hand again. 

 

“How is it,” Chris begins with a smirk, “You’re so eager to fuck yourself on my hand~? I would think you’d be saving it all for when I’m in you~”

 

“Ch-Chris, you’re gonna make me cum if you keep doing that…” He sighs in response, “I-I need you instead…” He whines, a string of precum that leads to the tip of the Swiss lover’s member drips from his mouth.

 

He had nearly lost himself in the rhythm of his own fingers in a stupor, and as the warmth leaves his lap that has him twitching, his breath growing heavier. “Oh~ So eager to get the real thing~ What’s the hurry?”

 

“S-Says the one teasing me with three very big fingers.” Phichit groans, his fingers grip the blankets around them now, and he huffs at a deep thrust against knuckles before they slowly draw out. “Ooohhh, god…….” He whines, almost looking relieved, yet still yearning to be filled further. “how do yo udo that with your fingers without getting sore? You didn’t let up!”

 

Chris’ chuckle bubbles in his throat as he wipes his hands with a paper towel sheet. “Can you imagine me as a bottom? I like it hard and deep~ When I get off by myself, sometimes I like to play around.”

 

“I’ll remember that!”  Reaching for the box of condoms, he passes it to the taller man, who picks out a silver wrapper, tearing it with his teeth.  “And you say I’m the eager one, you practically can’t wait to get in me.”

 

“Are you going to bend over for me or not, Chaton~?”  Chris chuckles, taking care to put on the condom and delicately apply some lube, colder than he had expected previously.

 

He didn’t hesitate to follow instruction as he turns, peeking over his shoulder to give a sultry look; wiggling his hips in his sweater that grows rather warm with their antics.  He even rides the rim of it up to show off his charming figure. “But Chris~ Of course I will, since you asked so nicely~”  Using the shape of his lower half against the tall man, he bends down to show off the arch of his back.  All throughout, he keeps a hand down by his dressings to be sure nothing’s coming undone, and that any discomfort is gently massaged around the wound.

 

“Oh~ Oh my~” Chris may need to fan himself as he watches his lover. “You’re so bad for me~ You’ll break my heart with these thighs~”  He gently grips each cheek, pulling them apart with his thumbs to prod at him, his entrance now tender from the fingering. “Is this alright?”

 

The urge to push him down and just take control rises, but he knows he has to be patient, this is after all, their first time.  However, a year or so of crushing on this man, thinking about him in the darkest hours of the night, or in the shower when heat would flush through him, surging into him was more than overwhelming.  It was amazing.  But _god_ did he want it.

 

Hearing his younger lover practically beg for him gives Chris goosebumps; leaning forward, the tense muscles attempt to relax, pushing against the fleshy ring they’ve stretched for what feels like forever to take his girth, yet it still feels so taut as he slides halfway in.  “ _Oh…fuck……”_   Phichit’s nails dig into the blankets as he feels his chest try to take in a deep breath, and he lets it out in a shaking shuddery moan from below.  Heat in his gut, the drip of precum that is sliding down his thigh as his legs tense up, he’s closer than he’d like to admit from finishing.

 

“Oh, mon amour~” Christophe’s eyes roll and flutter, his own body resists every urge to just plow into him, instead, digging his fingers into his cheeks, which seems to work for the cutie beneath him as he wiggles. “let me know when it’s okay to move~”

 

His back arches and falls as he tries to relax and breathe, adjusting to the size within him; he was so delightfully _full._

 

“Are you alright, Phichit?” He watches him breathe, feels how he twitches, drinking in how wonderful he looks at his disposal.

 

Phichit presses back against him, his body swallowing the remaining inches that were left out, letting out a moan of delight that Chris savors with the combination of his tight pucker.  He pulls forward until his cock is halfway out, and then presses back again; Phichit was fucking himself against his boyfriend’s hips.  Chris briefly remembers that comment about being a power bottom before the next motions throw him into ecstasy.  “Oh god~ merde~” He even slips into his native tongue as he gulps, his breath catching in his throat as he starts to meet halfway with his own thrusts.

 

The slap of their hips is not the only noise in the room, neither one knows what to do with those moans they can’t help but make, yet they relish in the feelings.  Their moans are messy and broken, heavy shuddering that bubbles in the throat.  Whispers of praise that can barely be deciphered, Chris huffs into his skin as he leans down, thrusts getting deeper.  Oh the sounds his dear lover mewls as he pushes back to their hips was intoxicating with the delectable feeling of Phichit going faster.

 

“M-My love, you’re not pushing yourself, are you?” Though he tries to be concerned, his toes curl at the rhythm as they both cherish that whirling sensation.

 

“N-No…I-I don’t want to finish, but I feel s-so…ngh!”  He shakes a bit, “I-I’m so close….”

 

Such a simple smile appears on his face when he hears such a desperate whine, buried deep in him, knowing he’s the source of such a beautiful man to groan with lust, how he’s barely touched him since their blowjobs and yet he’s about to fire off.  He slowly leans forward, setting his hands to his shoulders and gently clawing down his back, thrusting in deep as he goes. The reaction was priceless, that squeak came out with his shivering body aching for more, his face grows redder and hotter.

 

And god how he _squeezed_ down, it’s overwhelming, exciting, absolutely intoxicating.  Chris reaches around as he grinds into him with deep thrusts, his hand takes a grip on his length as he uses that leakage to lube his fingers and strike at him.

 

Chris didn’t want to muffle those noises, but someone in a room around them must know what’s going on, as that whine that pressed into the sheets was loud enough.  “Do you want everyone to hear that you’re mine~?  Do you want them to know how I’m making such sweet love to you~?”

 

“Y-Y…aaahhhhh…” Phichit was lost in the words, he could barely say anything as he feels his body tremble, his cock was throbbing in his hand, he was ready.  The pressure that built up in his gut was like a dam about to break, it made him bite into his sleeve of the sweater that has ridden up his back, exposing the welts of the scratches in his skin.  “Ch-Chriiaaaaahhh…..” He cries again, this time with a gasp as he feels the release explode from him.  The sheets are painted in the white as he cums, pressed against his lover’s hips while clenching; he could nearly see stars.

 

Chris stops thrusting to keep inside him, and he lets Phichit ride through his orgasm as he strokes at him, watching his eyes fluttering in excitement; but he stays to feel how he pulsates around his thickness that still sits there. “Y-You’re making it hard for me to hang on, love~”

 

“P-Please…. Don’t hold back…” Phichit whines into the blankets, he himself is barely able to think of anything else but know his lover is sated, the hot grunts filling the air, how his full gut felt unbearably good.

 

“A-As you wish, mon prince~” Christophe chuckles, pulling out from those narrower hips, then back against his own, closing his eyes.  He’s drunk on this overwhelming feeling that surges through his body as he pounds into the smaller man.  His knuckles are clutching hard enough to shade white, they slide into the small of his back, digging down into his cheeks again.

 

Phichit, despite being post orgasm, slaps against his waist tiredly, the overstimulation that rubs against his sensitive taint as he’s already spent makes his legs shiver uncontrollably.  As Chris’s wave of heat slams into his nerves, he’s shuddering and unsteady in his thrusts, legs burning from the rough and awkward way the muscular boys slap against each other.  They slow to a grind as the feeling of throbbing warmth escapes Chris, he throats a groan that sounds like the form of a sob as his condom is filled with the spunk he’d been feeling burn through him. 

 

The pair stay there, both shaking, both a mess as they pant heartily  to the hot room, trying to find their bearings, let their minds resume focus as they still feel the leaking heat on and in them.  “Ch-Chris…”  Phichit’s broken moan huffs out, muffled to his sweater sleeves. “P-Pull out.”

 

The tone sounds a little pained, and as soon as he heard it, Chris slowly assures comfort by pulling his hips back, his cock slapping down to his thighs with the bubbled cum that sits in it. “Ah! Yes! Sorry!” Phichit groans as his body goes limp, sliding to lay on his stomach, gently as not to disturb his dressings. “Are you alright?”

 

“I think I’ll need the wheelchair again today.” He giggles tiredly, “I was too eager.”

 

The Swiss man joins in his laughter, shaking his head and taking the paper towel he’d brought over to pull the condom off, cleaning his legs off as well from the lubed mess. “All is well though?”

 

“Oh god yes, I feel great now!” He smiles, lifting his face from the pile of blankets and pillows, beaming in a blushing glow that lights those grey eyes.  Chris gasps and looks away. “Chris? ….. What is it? What’s wrong?” He covers his face with a hand. “Is there something on my face?”

 

“Your face is so beautiful. I can’t handle it.”  He says with a dramatic flair in his voice, draping his forearm over his face. “I may die if I stare at it too long!”

 

Phichit rolls his eyes at the pickup line, but decides for once he’s going to play along. “Oh, no!” He giggles, rolling on his side as he takes a paper towel sheet to clean himself off. “Don’t die! You have a gold medal to win, you can die later!”

 

“Says the man who tried to die twice in these two weeks!” Christophe rolls over to peck his cheek as they laugh away. “Mwah~ Let’s take a shower, you especially are going to need it.  I want to take care of you, mon prince~”

 

“I like that, being called that.  Your prince.”

 

As Chris scoops him up carefully. “Oh?”  It gets a giggle from the Thai man who wiggles his feet at the act. “Mon prince~ You know what mon means?”

 

“Heehee, maybe, I’ve been trying to look at a French Speaking app and I know only a few things… But that one’s not hard to figure out.” He winks lovingly as he’s carried to the bathroom, still sporting his sticky sweater.  “But it’s only little bits, I can’t speak much yet…” He sets him down at the sink before turning around to switch on the shower to a hot and steamy setting.

 

How endearing, as Chris leans forward to kiss his nose, he chuckles. “I think it’s very cute, perhaps I can learn Thai, just for you.”

 

“Really?” He squeaks excitedly, his legs wrapping around the Swiss man’s hips as he looks up to him, stars in his eyes as he beams.  “Oh my gosh! Nobody ever wants to learn Thai! I’m always learning everyone else’s language!  If you want, I can teach you little bits here and there!”

 

“I’d love that….”  Chris was blessed with the sight of his smile every chance he could get it, his hazel eyes gazing down to him with a heartfelt adoration, his chest filled with that falling feeling.  “…. Phichit, I don’t tell you this as much as I know how to, but… I love you so much.” 

 

They meet eye contact and stare for a moment, naked in the bathroom after a hearty love making, and yet they couldn’t help but want to be closer, want to be in each other’s arms, to be bursting with the kisses like they were a drink that could intoxicate them into heaven and back.  Phichit squeezes onto his hands, and leans his face against his chest with a smile. “Thank you…. You’re…. You’re the only reason I know how to be happy in this situation I got caught up in.  If anything, I’m so grateful it happened, just because I’m not sure how much longer it would have taken us to get together.”

 

“Please, the universe loves us too much together; there’s no such reason why we could have been apart any longer than to try to kill you.”

 

“Gee, thanks Chris.” He giggles, hugging him close as the steam of the shower seemed to fill the air, fogging up the mirrors.  “Either way, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me….”

 

“Me too, Chaton~”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BLEEDING HEARTS OF THE WORLD UNITE. This was hard to get time to write, and I was also nervous on top of it, so please excuse me! :D


	17. Gold with Gold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You'll always be my true love  
> My true love  
> My true love  
> Forever
> 
> I will follow you

 

For some reason, it seemed like even more people were attending the second day of competition than the first, as the halls were packed with attending guests clutching at support  flags and merchandise.  Among those trying to navigate at one footstep per minute was the group of Giacometti’s friends, getting all sorts of groans from each person.  Dao is the most impatient of the bunch, and she has nearly bitten the head off every child who’s knocked into the wheelchair where her brother groans.  “OH MY GOD, the next person to stop and admire the STUPID poster of the history of this rink, I’m going to PLOW this wheelchair right into their knees!”

 

“Hey! You’ve got precious cargo in this wheelchair that would strongly object to being used as a human plow!” Phichit pouts, trying to see around the busy bodies, being at the current sitting height makes it hard to look above anything but service dogs and children.  His abdomen was sore, probably from the early morning _activities_.  He was sure they were careful, and he’s glad it’s only mild pain; though he will ask the doctor when the stitches are being removed tomorrow if it’s all normal.  He’s made it a point to stop hiding if something doesn’t feel right.

 

Celestino looks down, noticing the overwhelmed expression on his dear student’s face as their chair is bumped by someone’s large bag as they’re shuffled past for some autographs by old Olympic skaters visiting.  “Phichit, you look distressed.”

 

“I’m sore…” He grumbles, leaning back to set his hand where his dressings sit against his sweater, only to be bumped again. “Ah! Oh, come on!” Dao growls at the person and fires off some angry Thai words. “Shouldn’t our passes make us get there faster?”

 

“I haven’t seen any security officials down this hall…” Dao frowns, eyes searching for the door they entered before, they’re still farther down the hall from it. “Jeez, we’re going to miss the first performances at this rate.”

 

Phichit leans his head back and takes a deep breath, the air is hot and doesn’t feel comfortable, though he knows nothing is urgent feeling.  He just wants to be with Chris again, somehow it feels harder and harder to stay away from him.  He feels the wheelchair stop in its place once more, and he looks up at a voice that greets him, one he’s only heard on the other side of a phone. “I’m going to need to see your identification, sir!” Looking up, he’s greeted with the beautiful blonde curls and brown eyes of…

 

“Mrs. Giacometti!” He squeaks, smiling until he’s bumped into again, interrupting with a grunt. “Uughh….. Hey! I didn’t know you were going to be here! When did you get in?”

 

Julia frowns, striding to his side and feeling his forehead in such a familiar way even when he has never felt it from her before, it reminds him of his own family back home.  “Nobody except Mr.Karpisek knows about my visit, I planned this for a whole month. You look absolutely upset though… are your stitches bothering you?”

 

Celestino groans as he glares another person away with their merchandise, he’s pretty sure he just got pop spilled on his suit jacket. Phichit frowns up over his shoulder. “Oh, no, no, no, I’m just a little overwhelmed from the crowds is all… We’ve been trying to get to the doors over there for what feels like forever!”

 

“It’s been a nightmare.” Dao huffs, holding her hand out to greet her. “I’m Dao Chulanont by the way, I’m Phichit’s older sister.”

 

“Charmed, love. Just charmed!” The mother looks around as everyone shuffles at a snail’s pace, putting two fingers to her lips and whistles loud enough to get some attention. “EXCUSE ME! PARDON!” She calls, the people stepping aside as they turn to look at her, she strides forward gracefully with her skirt swinging. “We have a wheelchair with a distressed patient I need to get through, please move aside! Thank you!”

 

Celestino takes this for granted, following her closely to get to the skater’s entrance that seems only a skip away.  Dao sighs in relief that someone has a grasp on the situation. “Oh, mercy. Thank you! I was so ready to just run everyone over.” She sighs as the coach pushes the wheelchair with his overwhelmed friend; quite worried for him per usual

 

“I’m a teacher, of course, I can handle crowds like this!” She laughs, flipping her beautiful curls over her shoulder like a graceful diva, leading them to the wall.  It takes a few minutes, but the patient and company are relieved to stop into the lesser crowded part of the arena where the air is cold and quieter. 

They are greeted by a familiar coach, who has his phone to his ear grumbling; as he sees them walk in, he hangs up immediately and sighs.

 

“There you are!” Josef says with a relieved sigh. “We’ve been looking for you, the skating is about to start!  I’m glad to see you made it Julia.”

 

“Glad to be here, Mr.Karpisek! Where’s my son?” She looks around, not seeing Christophe anywhere close by, perhaps he’s with the other skaters.

 

Josef looks down to Phichit, who is relishing in the relaxing and non-crowded area, frowning. “He’s… Stretching. Are you alright, Phichit? You don’t look well.”

 

He stops rubbing his abdomen. “I’m alright! I swear! I was just sore from…. Uh, running around last night, and kids bumping into my chair didn’t help at all.”  Celestino steps to the side to give his student a water bottle, he takes it graciously. 

 

 

Christophe is in a full split, eyes searching the room as the other skaters were practicing motions, steps, jogging in place, even quieter than he was.  They were wary of their placing and today was stiffened with more fans, more publicity; the mention of the scandal must have attracted people today in order to see the drama. That’s the only explanation Chris could think of, as now, there are even people standing due to the lack of seats; it made him worry about the chance of press getting wind of Phichit’s three year struggle to keep those pictures.  If they found out, he would be investigated with the chance of appearing in court, having to see Ivan again on conditions where lawyers were going to be building a wall around him.

 

It bothered him to no end.  He was done stretching for now, he could hear announcements going off for the crowds to find their seats immediately.  Now would be a good time to go see if his coach had found the gathering of friends quite yet; He walks towards the side rink where the rest of the skaters gather beside the rink.

 

 

 

“Christophe!” He’s grabbed with a pair of arms that hug him from the side, making him jump at the brand new motion, he yelps slightly as he’s trapped with Phichit’s arms. “There you are! I’m sorry we just got here, kinda got held back!”

 

“Oh dear, Phichit, love. You scared the hell out of me!  I thought something happened between you all!” He wiggles slightly, looking around to his friends and the brand new guest that shocks him. “….. Maman?” His green eyes set upon her as she looks up from the bench where she sits with Yuuri, he’s almost not sure it’s truly her. “…. My goodness, Maman, is that you?”

 

Julia rises, setting a hand on the Japanese man’s shoulder. “Pardon, Yuuri, it was lovely seeing you again…. How are you, Christophe?”

 

“I’m wonderful now!” The Swiss man is released in a hug and joins into another quickly, holding his mother in what seems like the first time in forever.  The hug that was between a mother and son was the kind that couldn’t be duplicated by any other two people in the world, and he pressed his forehead into her shoulder. “I can’t believe I’m actually seeing you, I haven’t been home in years….”

 

“I figured it’s time I came to you for once!” She chuckles, pulling back. “Now you have some skating to do, have you stretched? Where’s your water bottle?”

 

They’re interrupted by some announcers, some English speaking ones translating.

 

**“Welcome to the second day of the Grand Prix Final 2018 singles men’s skating.  IT was an exciting day yesterday as Katsuki Yuuri took first place in the short program, with Christophe Giacometti less than one point behind. Yuri Plisetsky has a program that might knock both down the podium, from what we’ve seen before, and the two are going to need a high difficulty program each to make first!”**

**“Exciting, isn’t it? Everyone’s going all out this year with gold in mind! Plisetsky’s looking for his third year in a row, Katsuki hopes to win gold for the big Katsuki-Nikiforov wedding, Giacometti is retiring, and Leroy is expecting his first child!”**

**“Everything’s at stake today, let’s see who makes it.”**

Christophe takes a deep breath, not worried about his program, which is structured to show his beautiful strengths and to show his final goodbye… today was final. He’s skating to compete for the last time.  None of it seems real.

 

Phichit was before him in the rink, watching his face as he’s about to go on, squeezing the hand of his sweetheart, how his face looked to be lined with an unreadable expression behind his cool smile HE can tell there’s a lot in his mind, bottomless of how his future will be, knowing he’s leaving the multicultural life he’s always known to train for a new future.  Phichit wants to hold him in reassurance, in a way that won’t break his concentration, so he clears his throat. “….Ahem… Chris?”

 

“Hm?” Looking down to him, his head peeks to gaze from the clouds it stirred in, lost in wonders of this actually being the one. “Yes, Chaton?”

 

Taking a deep breath, Phichit holds both his hands close to his chest and tries to remember what he had learned. “…Je t’aime….” Chris’ eyes widen at that. “Et…..oh gosh….. Et j’ai tou….toujours.” He stutters the word out, squeezing his eyes closed to thin. “Tu… iras bien.”

 

He’s stunned, hearing the sloppy French words mumble out quiet in the crowds around him, and his heart skips a beat. “…. Oh Phichit… .Oh, mon bel homme…” Phichit opens his eyes and looks up to him. “Je t’aime aussi~”

 

Though the words are beautiful, the Thai man can only recognize what must be the ‘I love you too’ he’d been expecting.; he’s warmed within, a smile on his face that melt’s Chris’ heart. He lets go from his lover who turns to take his skate guards off.

 

Josef is there, beside him with tears filling his eyes behind the red rimmed glasses. “… Christophe…” he chokes, biting his lip to hold back from crying. “Son, you do your best and we’ll be proud of you no matter what.”

 

“Coach.” Chris smirks. “You say that as if there’s a chance I’ll lose~” He leans over to hug him.

 

“We love you.” He sniffles.

 

Once he lets go, he turns to the two ladies in the group, Dao and his mother, who each smile heartily towards him. “Any kind words from you, Dao?”  She thinks a moment, then looks down to her split fist, lifts the other one and punches him in the arm. “OW!” He jumps, rubbing the side of his arm. “Was that really necessary?”

 

“Yes!” She squeaks, chuckling as she steps off to the side to watch the emotional setup.

 

He laughs, looking over to see his mom… his dear mother.  For the first time in a long time, he’s noticed the aged look in her eyes that have come by since the last time they visited, as he’d only seen her through a screen for two years.  “Christophe…” She smiles, her heart swelling. “I remember when you were a little boy, and you came home with your eyes just glowing… how you told me you wanted to skate…. I never knew it could be this big. Here you are years later, still….” She chokes gently. “… Still my little boy.” She’s tearing up just as much as Josef, but she holds her grace as a true Giacometti does. “You have so much love in you, you’re going to be a great coach.”

 

Looking as his mother hiccups, Christophe feels an ache in his chest, he had been sad about retiring before, yet as he sees his dear mother cry, he breaks.  Tears well up in his eyes that are heavy with choked back sobs, they fall without hesitation from his long eyelashes.

 

The crowds in the arena collectively start cheering for him, trying to give him an extra push to perform this swan song of a program.  He doesn’t pay them any attention as he just feels her hands cup his cheeks, wiping at those tears. “Merci, maman….” She pets his head gently and kisses it.

 

“it’s time for you to go on, love.”

 

With a nod, Chris rises to his tall stature, taking a deep breath and turning to start gliding to the center of the ice.  It doesn’t feel real, it’s almost like it’s all been a dream, but he knows by the feelings within him, he’s been awake this whole time. Perhaps this past two weeks have been the most real he’s felt in his life.

 

The cheers die down for his music as it starts, he bows his head down, starting on his knees as he prays internally for this program to be a good one.  All he hears now is, _“Ne me quitte pas.”_

 

 

 

 

 

**“And that commercial break was brought to you by BlueSun and Company, the sports equipment kings of the figure skating world, make sure you get your little Olympic star some skates to get them started! If you’re just joining us, you’re in time for Thailand’s best, Phichit Chulanont, who’s about to skate his free program, titled ‘Rebirth’”**

**“Very exciting, he’s already finished in first with his short program, choreographed by his sister and his boyfriend and previous competitor; Christophe Giacometti.  The theme in my opinion must be in reference to last year when he had a medical incident on the ice right here in Paris on this exact rink! Some speculate he should have taken more time off than he did, but that viral video of Giacometti and Chulanont practicing couples skating lifts put those to rest.”**

**“They put them to the grave! It’s as though the incident never happened! They almost didn’t agree to the exhibition skate they’ll both be performing today after the competition is done.  If Chulanont does well today, the program will be one of the first by two gold medalists!  Let’s see if our Cameras have Chulanont ready for any interviews!”**

 

Phichit’s away from cameras, standing with Celestino and taking a deep breath as he starts to unzip his Thailand jacket, pulling it off to show his elaborate costume.  It’s a swirling green costume that twists down his torso, mesh sleeves and legs covered in green and black shimmering ribbons.  The crowd goes wild whenever they see it, Chris was right, he looks good in green.  “Ciao-Ciao, where are they?”

 

“Dao and Christophe are with his student, he’s really excited to go to his first Grand Prix before he begins next year.  It’s funny how your sister and Chris act more like siblings than the pair of you do!”

 

Phichit giggles. “It’s because I’m the favorite, and she knows it.”  He gives his jacket over, pulling out a small box and his phone.  “Hey, can you hold these? And guard them with your life?”

 

Celestino smirks, holding the two things up. “Oh, don’t worry your pretty little head about this, you’ll get them at your exhibition skate.”

 

“Thanks, ciao-ciao!” Looking up, he sees Christophe and Dao rushing in with a young Thai skater, who is just barely over 14 with a matching Thailand jacket that seems a bit big for him.  “Ah! Hide them! Hide them!”  The coach blinks and stuffs them away in his jacket pockets, looking over with a nonchalant smile. “Chris! Dao! Chakrii!”

 

Christophe sighs in relief as he leads the party. “Thank god, we made it! Did you get your water? Are you laces tied?”  


Oh dear, he’s sounding like his mother.  Dao smacks his arm. “Chris! He’s in the GPF!  Do you think he didn’t check his laces to be tied? Chakrii, seriously, you gotta keep an eye on your coach, he’s getting old.”

 

“I know, miss Dao! I know!”

 

Christophe pouts and raises an eyebrow.  “I believe I’m the only one among us with a gold medal, so I would hold my tongue if I were either of you two.”

 

As the two titter away, Phichit kisses his boyfriend’s cheek with a giggle. “Chris, honey, focus.”

 

“I’m sorry, mon petit~ I wish you the best of luck, I love you~”

 

“I love you too~”

 

Phichit starts his rounds to wave to his fans, smiling with gusto to the slew of Thai flags that reside in the scattered crowd. One year ago, he can remember their terrified faces as he had fallen, how the world faded among for a moment while he writhed in agony.  His theme of rebirth was appropriate, as he felt entirely new when he had his first practice after the incidents. 

 

As his graceful music entered the setting rink, his mesh fingerless gloves come over his heart, starting to gently spin on the ice with his eyes closed; he remembered this whirlwind year all too well.  His family traveling to Beijing to take care of him while Christophe and his family joined to meet; the Giacometti family vacation turned into what they ended up calling the Chuchumetti trip.  They became fast friends, and he knows they’re probably gathered together in the stands louder than the rest of the fans.

 

The day he almost died was a blessing, for he wouldn’t be here in first place with wonderful support, determined to be gaining a new medal that would tint gold.

 

They stayed in Beijing for a month before traveling to Switzerland where the Giacometti’s welcomed him to their lives as he started practice and physical therapy.  Ciao-Ciao didn’t go easy on him per request, and he began to tutor a fast learning Christophe.  Every weekend, Phichit organized for picnics and cookouts to visit the retired coach Karpisek, who was relaxing and enjoying his life as a stay-at-home grandfather.  They had become the favorite uncles, Chuchu and Toffee, to his two younger grandchildren.

 

After his training, Christophe had a request pending from him for a student who had watched his career for as long as he could, a young Chakrii Monkutt, and wanted to be his first pupil.  They packed up to go to Thailand to spend the next four months before competition with the Chulanonts.  One could never fathom the love Chris would get when he stepped foot in the door, as he had been pulled away by the cousins to get to know him one by one.  They tested his Thai speaking, and even gave him tips on how to speak.

 

It was September when Chris had suggested they move in together, going in on an apartment in Bangkok.  They were moved in less than two weeks later, out of boxes and hand me down furniture, both on a mattress on the floor from being too tired from practice.

 

If only Phichit could have known how happy he could be, as he had never imagined one year after bleeding to the point of passing out, he was _so in love_ with his life and in the one he’s about to continue.

 

Heavy cheers fill his ears as he stops his final pose, a proud stance with his legs crossed beneath the spotlights. Phichit looks up, the crowds went crazy over his nearly perfect performance. Despite one touchdown, he’s at the top of his game, and he’s more than excited to be coming through for his country.

 

 **“Phichit Chulanont has done another fantastic performance in representation of his home, Thailand!”** The announcers proclaim, nearly knocking the Thai man to his knees in happy sobs, though he stays standing as he works his way over to the coaches with tears in his eyes. **“Let’s head to the judges table to get the results of his program!”**

 

Celestino smirks, Christophe applauding and smiling brighter than them all, Dao whistling loudly at him. All he can make out is, “YEAH, THAT’S MY BABY BROTHER!” as well as a high five exchanged between her and the junior skater.

 

“Phichit! That was the best toe loop you’ve done out of practice!” His coach praises, giving him the water bottle he reaches for while out of breath. “Good timing on that step sequence too, that choreography paid off!”

 

Gulping down his drink, he steps off the ice into his blade guards, starting over to the Kiss and Cry to see his score, being the last skater and the one determination for who is going to win this competition.  All four sit down on the bench, awaiting with eyes glued on the screen.

 

 **“The judges have confirmed… and Phichit’s score is 122.06, making his total an astounding 235.05!”**   Phichit’s eyes widen.

 

“That means…”

 

**“Phichit Chulanont has brought Thailand its first Gold medal!”**

 

They didn’t know the screams of joy could get any louder before, and yet the world has turned still in Phichit’s heart, he had not only made history by bringing gold to his country, but he broke a personal record while doing it.

 

Dao is screaming loud enough for the press to fall back as she bounces, hugging Celestino and then Chakrii.  His boyfriend hugs him from the side excitedly and looks at him. “Chaton? Chaton! You’ve done it!  Is everything okay?”

 

He’s staring at the screen with disbelief, grey eyes bloodshot with hot tears he didn’t even know would have been there if they didn’t start running down his cheeks, he stands up with a smile on his face that beams brighter than any he’s had before. “YES! YES! YES! YEEEESSSSS!”  Jumping in the air as he cheers, he leaps onto Celestino to hug him excitedly, as his dream had finally come true.

 

Phichit had won for his country, Phichit was Thailand’s future once more.

 

 

 

**“And now, to close the Grand Prix series, an exhibition show featuring gold medalist, Phichit Chulanont, and retired gold medalist, Christophe Giacometti!”**

 

The announcers call as the two lovers begin to glide together on the ice with unmatched costumes; Phichit in his green dazzler, and Chris in a ruffled blouse with an English vest of light pink. Somehow, Phichit had convinced his lover two months ago to do this, despite being out of practice for months and trying to teach a young skater the ropes.

 

Though being in the Paris rink for the GPF was not much to put up with, as he forgot how much he already missed the cheering crowds and press, the fans, the celebrity status.  He missed his old career, but this exhibition skate was somehow easier to handle; perhaps the competition was getting old before.  On the rink side, he can see the newlyweds with a silver medal, the Russian kitten with his bronze; JJ was with his wife while he held a little black haired girl in a child carrier, and all those friends waved them on lovingly.

 

Phichit halts on his skates, holding Chris’ hand as he stands on one blade, posing as his swiss lover’s arms wrap around him to hold him in that position.

 

 _I will follow you_ __  
  
Follow you wherever you may go  
There isn't an ocean too deep  
A mountain so high it can keep  
Keep me away

 

The music begins sweetly with a piano, this song was chosen out of the pure swell that would appear in their chests when they saw the other.  Chris looks to that face as unwinds him from their pose, skating backwards as Phichit comes towards him in a gentle, yet graceful glide; grey eyes in an expression he’s seen before. 

 

 _I love you_ __  
I love you  
I love you  
  
Where you go, I follow  
I follow  
I follow  
  
You'll always be my true love  
My true love  
My true love  
Forever

 

 

Lifting him with a smile, his legs spread in the air as if he’s flying, holding tense so the holder shall be able to stay graceful.  The trust they held in each other was the only thing the both of them can concentrate on now, it’s all they can think of as they skate this show for everyone to see their love.

 _I will follow you_ __  
  
Every since you touched my hand, I knew  
Near you, I always must be  
Nothing can keep you from me  
You are my destiny  
  
I love you  
I love you  
I love you

 

 

Dao sighs and turns to look at Coach Celestino, raising an eyebrow as she holds her hand out. “Okay, now give me the box, they’re going to be heading over here sometime soon.”

 

“Yes! Of course.” He smiles, pulling the small navy box from his pocket he’d been instructed to keep safe, passing it to her carefully and nonchalantly as not to attract any attention. “He said not to throw it, he’ll reach over for it, can you reach that far on the ice?”

 

“You bet!”

 

 _Where you go, I follow_ __  
I follow  
I follow  
  
You'll always be my true love  
My true love  
My true love  
Forever  
  
I will follow you

Phichit and Chris glide as they follow the swirling spotlights, each on their own path to a unison axel, their direction towards the group of skaters that watch them is mesmerizing. As the Swiss man skates, backwards in preparation of a following spin, the Thai holds out his hand to grab the box from his sister’s outstretched hand, the transition is a little less than subtle and smooth.  _“Dammit! Dao, we practiced this like six times!”_   It should have paid off, but what’s done is done, and he grips the box carefully in his hand.

 

Green eyes catch an off motion, from the corner of his eyes Christophe notices, his combination slowing down as they’re soon back on track. “Phichit?” He whispers as they join for another lift, his lover crossing his arms. “Is everything okay?”

 

“Yup!” He grunts as he’s pulled up to twirl into a jump, momentum wowing the crowd as he spins and lands neatly in the tall man’s strong grips.

 

_“We’re almost done… but… I hope his ghost pains aren’t acting up again, they haven’t done that in months…”_

 

 _Follow you wherever you may go_ __  
There isn't an ocean too deep  
A mountain so high it can keep  
Keep me away

 

Christophe only worries quietly to himself as he hears the song starting to close out, getting ready for the final pose where the two are meant to hold each other by the hands with Phichit facing away from him.  He holds onto his shorter lover from behind, only for his loving embrace to loosen as Phichit turns to face him, a nervous smile on his face.  “…Phichit?”

 

_Away from my love_

 

Slowly on the ice, the spotlight narrows down upon the pair as Phichit lowers down onto one knee, their gliding slows to a halt as he pulls his box up from where it was hidden in his palms.  The crowds begin to roar as they watch the lovers on the ice as he opens the box.

 

Christophe doesn’t even need to process the thought, he knows exactly what’s happening, and the cold air of the ice shocks him like electricity to metal, his chest pounding loud enough for his ears to thump.  He looks down to the box where two rings are set, both in gold.  He feels the music and the crowds tune out, his hazel eyes looking from the proposing hand to the proposing man, who’s nervously, with teared eyes, looking up at him withholding a bit of nervous chuckling. “… Chris…. You know how much I love you…. Through every fight about the couch cushions, to every cry in the night, and every whipped cream fight we’ve ever had…. It’s made me want to hold onto you forever….”

 

“Phichit…. I…”

 

“Christophe…” He interrupts, important that he vocalizes this question. “Voulez-vous me marier avec moi?”

 

How soft the Swiss man’s face becomes as he smiles, “Chaton~….. C̄hạn mị̀ s̄āmārt̄h rx thī̀ ca pĕn s̄āmī k̄hxng khuṇ dị̂…. I can’t wait to be your husband.”

 

 

 

 

**Phichit-Chu: I'm the first Thai skater to win gold, and the first to do it twice in one day #husbandmaterial #PhichitGiacometti #ChristopheChulanont**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH
> 
>  
> 
> I'm so sorry this took so long to get to you guys, I've been on seven other projects!!! But I hope you enjoy the art, again by Jellyfish Song on Tumblr!!!!

**Author's Note:**

> Please excuse my translation, I'm using google translate and it's not the most accurate! But hopefully you get the gist!
> 
> Next chapter coming as soon as I post in my other work, "Stay with me"


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